Intertwined
by TheDancingFamilySkeleton
Summary: James Sirius Potter has finally turned eleven years old and is off to Hogwarts. When he arrives, nothing is as he imagined. His dormitory is faulty, his roommates aren't what he expected and the past isn't as far away as he might think...
1. Prologue 1: Black and White

**Intertwined**

**Prologue 1: Black and White—Of Dinner Parties**

"_Sirius! Stand up straight and stop playing with your dress robes! The Minister of Magic is coming to our party tonight and we must look our best. Do you hear?" Walburga Black threatened furiously, her scowl firmly in place. _

"_Yes Mum." Sirius grumbled. He hated these dinner parties._

"Stand up straight! For heaven's sakes, Sirius! This is a really important social meeting for us. We need to make a good impression. Lyra's not slouching is she? So stand up straight and put a smile on your face!" his mum hissed.

Sirius made a face at his mother's back but stood up straight all the same. He'd be up for another bruising lecture if he didn't and Sirius didn't want to spend any more time listening to his mother than he had to.

"—_and remember that she hates Quidditch so—" _

_Sirius stared at his mother blankly. He'd heard so many of these speeches that they just went in one ear and out the other._

"I saw that you little cretin!" Lyra, Sirius' nine year old sister, hissed the moment their mother left the room.

Sirius, his patience already worn thin from all the preparations his mother had forced him through, sneered, "Using bigger words doesn't make you smarter, Ly."

Lyra's nostrils flared as she glared at him, "You idiot! I'm going to tell Mum on you if you don't knock it off! I saw you make a face at her back! Don't even think about doing that at the dinner. It'd make all of us look stupid and it'd hurt Daddy's chance for that business thing! And I bet _you_ don't know what cretin means!"

Sirius gave her his very best disdainful look. It wasn't as good as his mum's quite yet, but Sirius thought it came pretty close. "Cretin's an insult for someone who's unintelligent. Which is pretty stupid coming from you. After all, _I_ didn't get a C in geography."

Lyra's face turned a bright, furious red, before spitting, "Yeah. Well, at least I'm not an embarrassment to the family."

"_Sirius!" Regulus hissed, "Pay attention! Don't be an embarrassment to the family!" _

"_Shut up Reggie and stop repeating things you don't understand!" Sirius snapped, trying not to be too angry._

Sirius felt his own face heat up. That was really low. His mum had told him that the last time they had one of those stupid dinner parties at their house. Sirius had accidentally knocked the bowl of beans to the floor. While his mum had been nice and understanding while the guests were there, she had screamed at him for an hour after they left. She'd finished it up saying he was a complete embarrassment to the family.

"Well, at least I—" Sirius began furiously.

That was when their mother made another showing.

"Sirius! Lyra! Calm down and stop yelling at each other! The Turners will be here in a minute and we Whites need to be on our best behavior. Or, so help me, I will ground both of you for the rest of the summer. Do you understand me?"

"_Sirius! Go greet that little girl or so help me you won't see the light of day for a month! Do you understand me?"_

Sirius glowered while Lyra immediately gave an apologetic look to their mum.

"Sorry Mum. It's just that Sirius—" Lyra began.

"I'm not interested in excuses!" Anna White hissed at her daughter, "Now, Lyra, straighten your skirt and Sirius—oh just come here. You've completely destroyed your shirt. Look at how wrinkled it is—you didn't even tuck it in!"

Sirius just stood there stonily as his mother fixed him up to her standards. After a moment of tucking and smoothing and angry, exasperated muttering, she let him go.

She frowned down at him for a moment and then sighed, "It will have to do, I suppose. Now come on the pair of you. The Turners will— that's them! Get into the living room, sit down, and talk quietly!" Anna hissed.

"—_mouth shut, you miscreant! Don't make us look stupid."_

_Sirius had several really nasty things he wanted to say about that but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut._

Sirius rolled his eyes but reluctantly followed Lyra into the living room. As Sirius sat there, ramrod straight and determinedly ignoring his older sister, he couldn't help but notice how unwelcoming it was.

The walls were a pale blue that were decorated with impersonal pictures of flowers. The couches, the chairs, and the pillows all had the pristine 'just bought' look and feel about them. The coffee table gleamed so much that it was as if it was in a furniture display. The entire room was spotless and looked as if it was a place meant to brag and show off rather than to live in.

"—_actually Grimmauld Place, home of the Most Ancient House of Black. Wow. So, Sirius, what's it like to actually live here?"_

_Cold. Dark. Lonely. Scary. Awful…._

When Sirius had gone to Derrick Matthews' house for a homework project, their living room had been scattered with toys and newspapers. There was a small stain on their couch and the pillows were well worn and used. That was the kind of room that was lived in and that was the kind of room that Sirius wished his house had: a place where people laughed, and lived and actually _talked_ together.

"_It's just home…"_

"Sirius!" Lyra hissed out of the corner of her mouth, "Stop looking bored and _talk_ to me! The Turners are coming in."

Sirius rolled his eyes but reluctantly turned to face her, "So, Ly, what exactly are we supposed to talk about? Or is this more of the 'we're a happy family and we enjoy talking to each other' sort of lie?"

Lyra gave a sickly sweet smile, "Just grin and try to make it look good, will you?"

Sirius gave Lyra his best sarcastic grin, "Of course your highness. Whatever you say your majesty. Where are the lovely Turners now, anyway, your royalness?"

"I hate you, Sirius." Lyra spat out between her forced smile, "And they're going to be right behind us so… laugh!"

—_hated the laughter. It was soft, it was cultured and it was completely fake. Couldn't anyone ever laugh and actually mean it? All Sirius wanted was to hear one real laugh. Just one real laugh. Was that too much to ask for?_

Sirius blinked at Lyra in surprise as she let out a tinkling laugh completely unlike her own. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he reluctantly let out a bark of a laugh. Silently he imagined grabbing her around the neck and choking her. It was a beautiful picture and Sirius actually let a real smile slip through.

Then his mum spoke up and ruined the moment.

"Here they are. Lyra, Sirius," Anna began, her voice a sickly sweet it never was in real life.

Sirius, knowing his part by heart after all the times he had to do it, fixed a smile on his face and rose to his feet, spinning around to face the stupid Turners. Lyra, Sirius knew, was doing the same.

"This is Mrs. Turner, Mr. Turner and their daughter, Jennifer. Richard, Louise, Jennifer, these are my children, Lyra and Sirius." Anna simpered, with a sweet smile pasted on her face.

"—_absolute joys of my life, my boys are. The absolute joys." _

_Gag me, Sirius quietly prayed, please, just gag me._

Sirius felt like gagging. Instead, he smiled politely at them and offered them his hand.

"How do you do?" Sirius said respectfully.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all." Lyra smiled shyly.

Sirius wished he could snort. Lyra was many things: nasty, fake, stuck up, dumb… but she was _not_ shy. Then again, Sirius thought resignedly, that was the whole point of these little visits: For the entire family to pretend to be something that they weren't for the audience—or, in other words, the family who was coming to dinner that night.

—_take a bow. We're here all night people! Sirius announced sarcastically in his mind as he stared at the bowl of beets he'd just knocked into the Minister of Magic's lap. His mother was going to kill him._

"Such lovely children you have Anna!" Mrs. Turner cried delightedly, as if they weren't standing right in front of her.

Lyra managed a blush. Sirius's smile just became a little more fixed.

"I'm going to go get Christian. If you'll just make yourselves at home, I'll be back in a bit."

As Mr. and Mrs. Turner sat, Sirius mechanically went through the motions. He asked all the right questions, gave all the right answers, laughed at all the right times, and basically played the part he'd been rehearsing since he was old enough to understand what was going on.

"_Oh Minister Bagnold, I am so sorry!" Sirius exclaimed looking aghast at the beets in her lap. Sirius firmly squashed the tiny part of him that was smirking at her and saying that she deserved it._

Sirius watched as his dad entered the fray, his glasses on and looking his most scholarly. He watched as everyone played their parts perfectly. By the time dinner was done, the Turners were completely charmed.

"—_so much for coming Minister. Once again, we are so sorry about the—"_

_As Sirius watched the Minister leave, he vaguely wondered if anyone could hear him screaming._

Three hours of pure torture later, Sirius watched the Turners leave the house, grinning and laughing and honestly saying that they had a great time. And as Sirius watched them leave he wondered if any of them had heard him screaming.

OoOo

**A/N: There are five prologues in **_**Intertwined**_**. This is the first one. The next four will be written in much the same style, but the chapters will be written differently. They will also be longer and will have longer waits in between posting. Anyway, I do believe (although I'm not sure) that what I'm doing will be fairly unique (I hope). As such, I would love to hear any and all comments you have on it. Let me know if you like the concept, if you hate it, if you think you've read it before. Let me know if you think the style is confusing or if you have any questions. Any feedback at all would be really appreciated. Thanks so much for reading this first prologue and I hope you'll stick around to see the rest.**

**-TheDancingFamilySkeleton**


	2. Prologue 2: Flowers

**Intertwined**

**Prologue 2: Flowers—Of People**

"_Mum! Mum! Can you take us to the park? Please, Mum? Tuney and I haven't been there in forever!" Lily Evans pleaded her eyes wide and hopeful._

"Lili, can you take the girls to the park? I just—there's so much I need to do and they keep getting in the way and…" Her mum gave her a pleading look.

Lili just looked at her mother for a moment. She had been reading the book she'd gotten from the library. She'd been trying to find time to read it all week. But that look from her mother let her know how much she was needed. So, with a sigh, Lili placed her bookmark back between the pages and scooped two year old Sarah out of her mother's arms.

Then she grabbed Meri's hand and turned around and called, "C'mon Bella. We're going to the park."

"_Alright girls, you got everything? We're going to the park!" her mum said with a wide grin. _

"_Yippee! Come on, Tuney, get your shoes on! We're going to the park." Lily shouted gleefully as she pulled her older sister towards the shoe closet._

"Thank you so much, Lili. You're a lifesaver." Her mum said with a very grateful look.

"Don't worry about it." Lili replied with a small smile as five year old Bella hurtled around the corner.

"Park?" She asked gleefully.

"Yeah, Bella. We're gonna go to the park. C'mon. Try to stay close." Lili called over her shoulder.

"_Stay close, girls." Her mum announced as they began to walk down the road._

"_I'm going to swing! What're you going to do, Tuney?" Lily asked her sister excitedly. She had wanted to go the park all morning. It was the perfect day for it._

"Yay! We're going to park! You excited, Meri, Sarah? The park's got swings!" Bella babbled excitedly. "Lili, will you do a spider swing with me? Please, please, please?" Bella begged as they clambered down the front steps and began walking down the street together.

"Depends if you're good or not," Lili told her snottily, "Now stay close."

"I wove the park! Can I pway in the sandbox, Wiwi? Pwease?" three-year-old Meri asked, tugging on Lili's hand impatiently.

Lili smiled down at her little sister, "Of course you can, Meri. You just have to—Bella! Get out of the road!" Lili snapped as they walked past the shabby houses lining their street.

"—_could have a swinging contest! I bet I can swing higher than you!"_

"_No swinging contests. It's not safe if you go too high, Lily."_

"Sorry Lili," Bella said awkwardly as she shuffled back over to her sister.

Lili just rolled her eyes and then stopped her little parade right where the houses began to look nicer and the street changed. Then, she quickly looked both ways for cars and ran across the street, Meri and Bella beside her as Sarah giggled happily in her arms.

"_Race you!" Tuney yelled with a grin._

_Lily took off running, a wide smile on her face. She loved the park._

Then, the four sisters trampled across the grass field until they reached the little park by their house. Bella, shrieking with laughter, immediately ran to the swing set that sat in the sand. Meri let go of Lili's hand and hurried over to the small sandbox sitting in the corner of the park.

Lili watched her go and then gave Sarah a considering look.

"Swings or sand or slide, Sarah?" Lili asked with a small grin.

"S'ide! S'ide!" Sarah demanded with a small giggle.

"Okay. Slide it is then!" Lili laughed, swinging Sarah through the air before marching her over to the play set.

—_perfect day for everything. Just a perfect, perfect day. She could swing, or maybe build a castle in the sandbox or go down the slides. She might even convince Tuney to race with her. It was just such a perfect, perfect day._

Lili helped Sarah down the small kiddy slides several times, always making sure to catch her at the bottom before Sarah tottered back up the steps and went back down again. As she did so, she kept an eye on Bella, who was swinging gleefully and Meri who had set about making a hole in the sand with single-minded determination.

After a while, Sarah demanded to go over to the swings and when Lili obligingly walked over there with her, a small family joined them in the park, the two girls and little boy rushing over to the play set while the mum and dad walked over to the picnic table to watch them with fond smiles.

_Three boys suddenly ran into the park, laughing and screaming happily as they went. Lily watched them curiously. They had come from the Spinner's End side…_

Lili gave them a polite smile when she and Sarah walked on past. Then, she helped Sarah into one of the baby swings and began to push her, higher and higher as Sarah screamed with delight.

"Wiwi! Wiwi, come wook at my howle! Come see Wiwi! Come see!" Meri suddenly cried happily, waving her arms from the sandbox.

Lili turned to Bella, "Watch Sarah for a minute, okay?" Then she jogged past the swings, and stopped across from the sandbox near where the parents sat watching their kids.

"—_not a good idea Lily. Look at them! They seem scary." _

"_We can't play tag properly with only two people, Tuney. I'll go and ask and then we'll all play."_

Lili peered down at the sandbox where the very proud Meri was pointing at the big hole she had dug.

"Wow! Good job, Meri! I love it," Lili told her little sister. Meri beamed up at her.

"Thanks. You can dig. I'm gonna swing now," Meri announced matter-of-factly, as she stood up and then ran over to the swing set.

"Watch out for the swingers!" Lili called after her.

Meri skirted them obediently as she hopped onto another swing on the other side of Bella. Lili made to follow them at a more reasonable pace when she overheard what the parents of the other kids who were running around on the play set were talking about.

_Lily approached them carefully. They were laughing and seemed very nice. Even if they were from Spinner's End…_

"—live on Briar Road no doubt. Their parents are probably drunkards or something and can't take care of them," The father told his wife confidentially.

"I know. Look at their clothes. They don't even fit properly and they don't have any supervision except for that little redhead. And she can't even be eight! The poor dears…" The mother murmured sympathetically.

"They're not worth your pity, love. They'll probably turn out just as bad as their useless paren—"

"—_would we want to hang out with you? You're such a loser! An idiot! Snotty! I bet you live on Rose Court!" the boy sneered._

Lili's head was roaring as she suddenly whirled on the two adults, her expression fierce. They both fell silent, looking startled.

"That's not true. Mum's not a drunk and she's not useless. And neither is Dad. Dad works in an employment agency and Mum's working three jobs a week! It's not their fault they're a little busy. Besides, I _offered_ to take my sisters to the park. And I'm eleven! Mum knows I can take care of them. She's wouldn't let me take them otherwise. And there is _nothing_ _wrong_ with Briar Road. You're just stuck up busybodies who pick on people to make yourself feel better. So just butt out of our business and stop talking about things you know nothing about!" Lili shouted, her face flushed with anger.

"—_so mean! Why do you care where I live anyway? There's nothing wrong with Rose Court!" Lily yelled, her face burning. Why did everyone put so much importance on where you lived and what you looked like? Did it really even matter?_

Then, before the two stunned adults could say anything, Lili whirled over to where her sisters were sitting on their swings, watching her.

As she expertly lifted Sarah out of the baby swing, she said, "We're going home. Come on. Meri, grab my hand and Bella, stay close and behave."

Meri and Bella did as she said immediately. As Lili stalked back past the adults she felt her temper flare again.

—_walking home, Lily thought about what her mum had said. About how people always judge you based on where you come from and what you look like and how that was called 'stereotyping' people. Lily hated it. It wasn't fair and it was just plain stupid. She could have been just as good a friend to them as anyone else could have been. They didn't even give her a chance and it just wasn't fair._

They had no right to say anything about her and her family. They didn't know anything. And so what if Lili wasn't eleven, but was really only seven? And so what if her Mum and Dad were divorced and Dad never had any time to spend with them anymore? Mum was more than enough and she was working really hard to support them. She just didn't have a lot of time and needed someone to help out occasionally. What was wrong with that? Lili was perfectly able to take care of her sisters.

And there was _nothing wrong_ with Briar Road.

_Lily just wished that everybody would give everybody else a chance. _

Lili just wished everybody would stop judging people before they even talked to them.


	3. Prologue 3: The Moon

**Intertwined**

**Prologue 3: The Moon—Of Truths**

_"Sweetheart, your father and I called you down because we need to talk to you. Is that alright?" His mum asked with a tentative smile on her face._

_Remus looked up at her and his dad. Both of them looked so tired and so worried. He felt like he ought to tell them to go to sleep so they could get better, just like they'd been telling him all week. But Remus felt that they may not like that too much so he just looked up at them and nodded._

"Sweetie, I'm going to tell you a story, alright? It's a story about you, your father and me. I want you to listen carefully okay, honey? It's an important story. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" Celeste Wolfe asked her son as she sat at the edge of his bed.

Her little boy looked up at her and then nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, Mummy. I like stories."

"_Remus, you remember how, a couple of weeks ago, you had to go to the hospital, right?" His dad began, looking distinctly uncomfortable._

_Remus nodded. He remembered. _

Celeste felt her heart breaking, but she dredged up a smile for her little boy.

"Good. Now, this story starts a long time ago, from before you were born. It was back when your father and I were young and living underground. We were werewolves and, back then, nobody liked werewolves. We were outcasts and no one would ever dare give us a job. And, every month when we became a wolf on the full moon, we hurt. We hurt a lot."

"Like I do, Mummy?" Her boy asked, his gray eyes innocent.

"_Remus, you were attacked by a werewolf and since it bit you, you became one too. That's why the bite hurt so much and why they had to keep you in the hospital for so long." Remus's dad interrupted Remus' mother's long winded explanation bluntly._

_Remus stared at him blankly, unable to understand what his father meant._

Celeste nearly cried, but instead forced herself to give him a small smile, "No. Not exactly like you do. But we still hurt and we couldn't remember who we were anymore when we changed. All we knew was the wolf and the wolf's thoughts. Anyway, one day, the werewolves your Daddy and I were living with found a newspaper. It talked about a cure for being a werewolf. It was a potion and it took away all the pain of being a werewolf. It let werewolves keep their minds. Let us be who we are even when our bodies changed. St. Mungo's had just made it, based on another potion. They were so proud of it that they were even going to give it to werewolves for free."

"—_no cure. Your father and I have spent the past week talking to Healers and researching. But there is no cure for it. I'm so sorry sweetheart. We've tried everything, but—"_

"But we didn't trust the Ministry. They had never helped us out very much and let us stay miserable for so long that we just couldn't let ourselves. But then, then we started hearing whispers—whispers from the other werewolves saying that it was true. That the potion was even better than the old potion that helped werewolves keep their mind. That the Ministry and St. Mungo's was truly giving it away for free. And then—miracle of miracles—the Werewolf Registry and the Werewolf Support Group—"

"—_already registered you with the Ministry. Did it last week. And there's this nice lady from the Werewolf Support Group who's here that you can talk to about all of this while it sinks in, so it's not like you'll be alone, she can answer your questions better than your mother and I can—"_

"Is that the place you go every Saturday when you leave me with Mrs. Filch?" her boy asked.

Celeste felt her heart breaking. Her boy was so bright, so perceptive but his life would be miserable because of her and his father's mistakes. It just wasn't fair. Still, she continued.

"Yes, that's right. Anyway, they were telling us about jobs the Ministry was making for us and all of the places that were going to let us work for them. They told us about this new law—The Remus Lupin Act—that was being pushed through the Ministry that insured all werewolves who took the potion were treated fairly when it came to getting jobs. So your father and I took the potion."

"_I won't be able to go to Hogwarts? What do you mean? That's not fair! I have magic and I'm just like I was before!" Remus exclaimed. His eyes were wide and he could see his life crashing down around him as the lady spoke._

"That was the best time in our lives. Dad and I had steady jobs for the first time ever. We were getting paid and living in a house. We never went hungry and we always had clean clothes. We even got married. And with the stories that werewolves were marrying and having non-werewolf children because of the new potion, we decided to do something we never thought we could: start a family."

—_so many things he wouldn't be able to do. No Hogwarts. No having any friends—who'd want to be friends with a werewolf? No getting married. No having a family. No becoming a teacher. No job at all really, if what this lady was saying was true…_

"It wasn't until after I was pregnant with you that we started to hear the stories." Celeste couldn't stop the dark look passing over her face.

"Mummy, are you okay?" her boy, ever observant, asked, watching her carefully.

"_Are you alright, Mr. Lupin?" The Support Group Lady asked him briskly._

_Remus felt like screaming no at the top of his lungs. He was not okay. He didn't think he'd ever be okay again. All the same, he nodded, because that was what she expected._

"I'm fine, sweetie." Celeste lied easily, "But your father and I started to hear stories about the children of two werewolves, like your father and me, who had died and that the ones who didn't die had to suffer through transformations ten times worse than their parents ever had too. Stories about how the children were resistant to the original potion that let them keep their minds as well as the miracle potion."

A light went on in her boy's eyes. Celeste could see that he was beginning to understand now.

_Remus watched as the lady left and his parents walked back in. Remus was slowly starting to understand that nothing would ever, ever be the same again. Not even his relationship with his parents…_

"When your father and I had you, we discovered that you had the same problem as the other children with two werewolf parents did. You transformed every full moon and lost your mind and hurt so much more than your father and I ever did. No potions could help you because your body wouldn't accept them. You were what the newspapers called a 'super' werewolf." Celeste blinked back tears, silently cursing herself for putting her darling baby boy through the pain he went through every month, just like she always did when she thought about this story.

"_Remus," His dad began hoarsely as Remus turned to go back up to his room, "I'm sorry." _

_For what, he didn't say._

"But Mum, then why aren't I dead? You said that the 'super' werewolves died." Her son's eyes were wide and fearful and confused.

Celeste could not stop the tears filling her eyes and trickling down her face as she continued, "Fifty percent of the children died as a result of their first transformation. A little over eight percent of the children were attempted to be killed immediately after the transformation by parents who had gone mad knowing what they had done to their child. Five percent of them succeeded… thirty five percent of those poor darlings died before their third birthday."

The tears were truly coming down her face now as she stared at the miracle in front of her, who was now looking a little uncomfortable under her gaze, "'A little less than ten percent of the kids made it to seven years old... and that's you honey. It's your seventh birthday today. You're one of the ten percent…"

_Remus sat down on his bed numbly. The words of the Support Group Lady suddenly bounced back into his head, 'Ten percent of werewolves manage to lead relatively normal lives…' _

_Only ten percent._

Her boy, her Romulus, stared at her in something like understanding. Then he asked, "What will I be treated like? Will I get a job? Or will they not let me because I can hurt people?"

_He was a danger to society, Remus knew. The lady, and the Healers now that he thought back on it, had told him as much, even if it was in different words. _

_As Remus sat there, he almost began to wish that the werewolf had just killed him. It might have been easier._

Celeste stared at her little boy and shook her head, "I don't know sweetheart. All I know is that you're alive and you're well, and that it's truly a miracle…"

Romulus looked at her with a strangely blank look on his face, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to be a miracle after all…

**A/N: This is the most, I guess **_**creative**_** might be the term to use, thinking I've done in this story. Accepting and going with the 'super' werewolf stuff should be the biggest stretch this story will have. If you can go with this and the basic idea behind the story (which is hopefully at least somewhat clear by now) you should be all set for the rest. Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews and, once again, all comments are appreciated! Especially criticisms. I love criticism. Thanks for reading!**

**-TheDancingFamilySkeleton  
**


	4. Prologue 4: Potters

**Intertwined**

**Prologue 4: Potters—Of Flying**

"_Mum! I'm going out to fly!" James Odysseus Potter yelled up the stairs to his mother._

"_Alright, dear. But do be careful and try not to crash!" she yelled in reply._

_James rolled his eyes. Like he'd crash._

"Mum! Al and I are going out to fly!" James Sirius Potter yelled over his shoulder.

"Okay, be careful and don't crash!" his mum shouted back as he and his little brother ran through the front door.

"Like we'd crash," James rolled his eyes as they walked across the lawn towards the broom shed. His little brother, Al, gave him a big grin.

"You know Mum. She's a worrywart." Al replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, well, she's better than she was before," James grinned as he opened the broom shed, grabbed two brooms. He threw one to Al, who caught it, and kept the other one for himself. Then, James grabbed a red ball and left the shed, shutting the door behind him.

_James flew out the door and through the yard to where Potter Manor had the Quidditch Pitch his father had had installed when he first married James' mum. Once he reached the edge of it, he dove into the broom shed, grabbed his broom and a quaffle before bursting into the air._

"So do you want to play keeper first, or should I?" James asked as they trudged further into their back yard.

James knew that he and Al were lucky. They lived in a really nice house with a huge yard. They had a stream to mark where their yard ended and their wizarding neighbor's yard began and woods off to the left of their property. It was between the stream and the woods where they played Quidditch.

One of the trees was far enough from the other trees to stand out and it also had three v-shaped branches that the Potters could use as goals. The woods and the stream also made good natural boundaries for how far they could fly in at least two directions. The rose bush opposite the stream and the baby ash tree opposite the forest made up the other boundary lines.

_James knew he was lucky as he hurtled toward the golden hoops as fast as he could. His dad, who had played professional Quidditch back in the day, had the best pitch built that he possibly could. James had grown up flying on it._

"I'll play keeper. How many are we going to go up to?" Al asked as they turned into their 'pitch'.

"Hmm… how about the first to five? Lily's going to be home in about a half-hour and you know she'll throw a hissy fit if we don't let her play. This way we should finish just about when she gets home and we can just tell her we're done," James suggested as mounted his broom.

While he loved his little sister to pieces, James didn't really want to play three team Quidditch anymore than he wanted Al and Lily to gang up against him. Besides, Lily was only four so they'd have to play even closer to the ground than they already did and Mum would have to watch them.

"Done," Al replied, kicking off and flying over to the 'goal posts', "Besides, I have a book I want to read."

James followed suit, this time taking the Quaffle up with him.

"_Potter dodges the bludgers and the opposing chaser as he streams towards the goals!" James commentated to himself as he flew down the pitch, dodging the invisible obstacles._

He watched his little brother hover in front of the three goals. James knew that Al was a very good keeper. Out of his three siblings, Al was the best at blocking the goals. However, James knew that he was also the best at making the goals.

Suddenly grinning, James shot forward, swerved left and then threw the Quaffle with all his might. Al lunged to the left and just got his fingers on the ball before it shot through.

"—_shoots and he scores! Potter shows why he's number one, once again!" James cheered as the Quaffle flew neatly through the hoop._

"One-zero!" James crowed, flying to take his position in front of the goals.

"That's just 'cause I haven't gone yet," Al said, rolling his eyes.

James shrugged loftily, "Details, details, de—whoa!" James yelped, jerking to the right as the Quaffle flew toward him.

The Quaffle went through the tree.

"You were saying?" Al asked smugly.

"Little brat," James muttered good naturedly as he fetched the Quaffle.

He and Al went back and forth for a while, each stopping more Quaffles than they let in. As they went, James's mood grew better and better. He loved flying. There was just something about it that let him forget everything in his life that was going wrong (like that awful history test he knew he'd failed in school that day) and just put his everything in to it.

_As James flew, making shots and spinning and flipping as he flew through the air, he slowly forgot about how often his dad was away from home, he slowly forgot how his mum had gotten sick and how disappointed both of them were when he didn't do his maths homework…_

Finally, they were tied, four-four and it was James' turn. If he missed this, he would probably lose. If he made it, Al's confidence would be shaken and he would probably win.

He watched Al watching him and then turned tail and flew all the way over to the ash tree. It would give him more time and room to maneuver in, thus allowing him a better chance of fooling Al.

As he turned back around, he watched Al. Then, James started forward at an easy pace, zigzagging as he went. The closer he got to the goal, the faster he went and the faster he darted back and forth. Then, he raised the Quaffle as if to throw it. As Al lunged to the right, James actually let go of the Quaffle, letting it fly smoothly into the left goal.

He turned to grin at Al triumphantly. Al just made a face at him before grabbing the Quaffle and flying to the starting place. James made himself comfortable in front of the trees, watching Al, his grip on the broom loose.

"_Dad! You're here! What's up? Can you fly with me? Please? Just one game? Please?" _

Al darted forward with surprising speed and then threw the Quaffle with all his might. James darted to the right and threw himself over towards it. He touched it with just the tips of his fingers and managed to bat at it before he lurched past the goals. It fell to the ground—outside the goal post.

"Ha ha!" James crowed triumphantly as he flew to touch down on the ground. "I won!"

Al rolled his eyes as he landed next to him, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just shut up, will you?"

"Good job, Al," James grinned as he walked over to the Quaffle.

Al rolled his eyes, "Yeah. You too."

"I know," James replied cockily, "I won, didn't I?"

Al snorted and grabbed the Quaffle from him, "Pure dumb luck. The wind was blowing away from the goal. Now I'm going back inside."

"—_to beg don't you? Okay. Fine. I'll play. But only for a minute otherwise your mum will murder me."_

With that, Al walked away from him, shaking his head. James watched his brother's retreating back before mounting his broom again and flying back into the air.

Al was right, of course. The wind had been in his favor, blowing exactly opposite of the way Al wanted the ball to go. It was always that way with Quidditch for him. The wind, the players, the trees all seemed to cooperate just to make things better for him and worse for the other team.

"_I scored? I scored on you? Ha ha! I scored!" James announced in stunned disbelief. He never scored on his dad. Ever._

That was part of the reason James loved Quidditch so much—it always seemed to go right for him. The other reasons were probably better though, James mused as he lazily flew around in the air.

For one, both of his parents played Quidditch and they had spent their time talking about it and teaching him and his two siblings since before they could all walk. Both Mum and Dad were really good at it and the entire Potter family played games together during the summer when Mum and Dad were off of work, even little Lily, although Dad always kept a very close eye on her.

—_thought about how much he loved Quidditch. And it wasn't just because it was one of the best ways for him to connect with his dad, although that was certainly one of the reasons, James mused as he reluctantly landed._

Another reason James liked it so much was that nearly all of his cousins played. Every family get together, all of his cousins except Rose (who was terrified of heights), Roxanne and Lily (who were too young to play properly) got together and split into teams for a tournament, sometimes even joined by some of their aunts and uncles. Some of the best times James had ever had were when he was playing Quidditch with his cousins. So many funny things, so many important things had happened while they were playing Quidditch.

The most important reason James loved Quidditch, though, had nothing to do with anyone else or the way luck favored him. It had everything to do with the way flying made him feel. It had to do with the way the wind blew against his face and the way he was higher up than anyone else. It also had to do with how great it felt to be able to get a Quaffle through the hoops and past the keeper.

Grinning, James flew up higher in the air, circling around and trying out the speeds of the old Nimbus 2000s his parents had bought for each of their kids last Christmas.

—_the wind in his hair and the feeling of flying with the birds while he looked down at everybody. It was the sense of freedom and the way that, when he was up in the air, it felt like there was no one who could touch him—ever…_

"James! James, come in! It's time for supper!" His mum shouted through the kitchen window.

"Okay! I'm coming!" James shouted back as he slowly circled lower and lower and finally touched back down on the ground.

"—_the peas please. Thanks Mum." James smiled after being uncharacteristically polite. He was always in a good mood after flying. He didn't know how people survived without it._

As he walked back to the broom shed to replace his broom, James couldn't help but think of how positively dull his life would be without flying. He didn't know how muggles did it.

**A/N: Sorry about the very long pause between updates. Also, just to let you know, this is probably the prologue I like the least. Once again, reviews are welcomed and encouraged. Thanks for reading.**

**-TheDancingFamilySkeleton**


	5. Prologue 5: What Matters

**Intertwined**

**Prologue 5:** **What Matters—Of Mums**

"_How was your day, Mum? Are you—are you going to be okay?" Peter asked his mum tentatively._

_She drudged up a small smile and nodded. Peter could tell that she was trying not to cry._

Janet stared down at her son, Parker, a small smile washing over her face despite her awful day at work.

"Hey honey. How was your day?" Janet asked.

Parker looked up at her, his face bright and happy, "It was really great! Me and Jonas and Daniel and Mark played tag together and I was only It once! And, Ms. Samuels gave us free time in Computer Class today, so I got to play this really cool game! I don't remember what it was called, but it was a lot of fun and I did better than everyone else in my class! How was your day, Mum?"

"It was pretty good." Janet lied, a feeble smile on her face.

"_How about you, Petey? Did you have a good day?" she asked cautiously._

_Peter slowly nodded, "It was fine."_

_They both knew they were lying._

Parker frowned up at her. "Why are you lying? Mum, what happened?"

That, Janet thought with a small sigh, was probably the worst thing about being a single mother raising one son. They seemed to know you so much better than they should.

"_Are you ready to go to the—well, are you ready to go?" _

_His mum said nothing. Peter gently grabbed her hand and steered her to the fireplace. They needed to floo and his mum needed help, so he was going to help her._

"Oh, it wasn't anything too big. I just had to cut Ruth Egert's hair today." Janet said lightly, hoping Parker would just accept it and move on.

He didn't though.

"_This way, Mum. Come on…" Peter gently led her into the chapel._

"Egert? Isn't that the really nasty lady who always insults you?" Parker asked, his nose crinkling upwards.

"Parker…" Janet warned as they walked down the sidewalk.

"What? She is, isn't she?" Parker demanded, "She was the one who made you cry, wasn't she? I hate her."

_Peter hated him. How could he do this to them? How could he die and just leave them like that? How could he make Mum hurt so much? How could he leave Peter all alone?_

"Parker! Don't say that! She's an older lady and I imagine she just—" Janet began helplessly, secretly pleased that her son would stand up for her.

"Mum, just because she's old doesn't mean she can be rude. Was she mean to you again?" Parker asked as they turned onto the next street.

"You still shouldn't speak ill of the elderly, Parker. They've lived longer than we have and deserve our respect. And she didn't say anything out of the usual, just the regular. I can handle it. It doesn't matter so much anyway." Janet said, brushing him off.

But Parker, for everything else she could say about him, was determined and he was stubborn. As they reached their apartment building, Parker gave her an obstinate look.

_Peter stared at the grave and at the coffin. He wouldn't cry. He refused to. Someone had to stay strong for his mum, so he __**would not cry**__._

Janet fumbled around in her purse for her keys, purposely ignoring the seven-year-old's steady gaze. However, as they entered the building and began the trek up the winding stairs, Janet couldn't stop herself any longer. She turned to meet her son's even stare, his brown eyes so much like his father's.

"—_so much like your father… I just… Peter, promise me that you'll always be okay. Promise me you won't leave me like—like he did." _

"What Parker?" Janet asked wearily as they continued to climb.

"What does she insult you about? She always insults the same thing. You said she did last time. You know, when you were crying in the bathroom." Parker asked seriously.

—_Mum needed him. Needed him to promise. "I promise, Mum. I promise I won't leave you."_

Janet stared at her son.

Parker was the one thing that gave her the strength to wake up every morning. He was the only reason why she didn't just turn to Ruth Egert and scream at her and tell her that she knew nothing and that she could just stuff her high and mighty attitude. He was the reason why she still talked to her parents, no matter how humiliating and awkward it was. After all, Parker needed grandparents, no matter how condescending they were.

Parker was the one who had sat down next to her and comforted her when Ruth Egert had been too much for her. Parker was the one who tried to help her whenever things just got to be too much. Parker was the one she laughed with and joked with and cried and talked with.

Parker was, in essence, her world.

—_needed to be strong for her. His dad had been his mum's world. Peter had to step up, had to make sure that she was okay._

And now he wanted to know why that nasty old woman made her cry. Janet knew he deserved to know, but she wasn't sure if she could tell him.

"Come on. Let's just get home. I'll explain once I start supper, alright kiddo?" Janet answered heavily.

"Alright…" Parker replied slowly, "Yeah. That sounds good."

Janet and Parker walked the rest of the stairs in silence. When Janet opened the door to their flat, Parker quietly slipped in and walked to his bedroom.

Five minutes later, just as Janet started to boil water on the stove, he reappeared, divested of his backpack and jacket. He calmly walked forward and sat at the small kitchen table. Janet could feel his gaze on her.

_Everyone was watching them. His mum was breaking down, and the grass was too green, the sun was too bright and his dad was too young… Peter felt like he was suffocating._

Sighing, she turned around to face him, "Do you really want to know? It's not that big of a deal, you know. I mostly ignore her anyway."

Parker said nothing and just stared at her. Janet pursed her lips and turned back around to stare at the pot, willing it to boil.

Then, she sighed again, "It's nothing really. I don't know why I let it bother me so much. She never says anything I haven't heard before and since she still comes to get her hair cut by me she can't hate me for it too much. It's just… well, I guess it's just the way she says it."

"—_so mad!" Mum hissed as she glared after the retreating woman, "That fake little—I almost wished she hadn't said anything at all!"_

Janet turned away from the boiling pot and walked over to sit across from her son. She pulled her feet up on the chair and wrapped her arms around them. It was something she'd done for comfort since she was a very little girl. Parker did the same thing.

"It's just—now, honey, I want you to know that I love you very, very much and that Mrs. Egert is just an angry, fussy old woman who needs to relearn her manners." Janet told her son strictly.

Parker grinned, "I thought we weren't supposed to insult our elders."

Janet rolled her eyes and grinned back, "Yeah, well, Mrs. Egert really is an old hag. Anyway, she just talks about—you know why Gran and Gramps aren't on the best of terms with us, right?" Janet said abruptly, trying to find the best way to explain this without hurting Parker's feelings.

"—_all your fault he's dead! If it hadn't been for you and your—" _

_Peter sat in the hallway, watching the door his grandparents and mum had walked through three minutes ago, listening to the yells and wishing they'd just stop blaming each other._

Parker nodded, "Yeah. It's because you and Daddy weren't married when you got pregnant with me," Parker paused, "And cause you were only fifteen and you wanted to keep me and they didn't want you too."

"Right," Janet nodded in approval, "Now, I don't regret that at all, Parker. You are my whole world and I love you to bits. But some stupid old hags like Mrs. Egert think that I was stupid. For getting pregnant with you, and having you and keeping you. And she just calls me names because I didn't wait, because I got pregnant because I was 'so stupid about it-it's not like I had to keep it.' It! That nasty woman called you an 'it'! And then she called me nasty things like 'trull' and, and 'whore' and it's just so terrible! I mean, I make one mistake when I'm fifteen and suddenly I'm sleeping around? That was my first, last and only time! And I just wished she'd shut up about things she doesn't understand, you know? And I really, really, really wish she'd stop calling you my 'messy little mistake'! Because you're not and she's never met you, so she can't possibly know how sweet and, and wonderful you are and—it's just not fair, you know?" Janet felt all of the words she needed to say for so long spilling out of her while her little boy patiently watched her with his big brown eyes.

Janet suddenly let out a small laugh and ran her hand through her hair, "How do you do that?"

"—_not your fault, Mum. Gran and Gramps are just—they're just so sad about Dad that they weren't thinking…" Peter explained as he hugged her tightly while she cried._

"Do what, Mum?" Parker asked innocently, "And the water's boiling."

"Oh, thanks sweet." Janet said, standing up to put some noodles in the pot, "And it's just that you always seem to—never mind honey. Could you set the table for me?"

"Of course," Parker said, hopping up obediently.

Janet smiled at him and wondered how he always knew just what it was she needed, whether it was to talk about something, or to hear a funny story or even simply to do what she said without complaining or mentioning it.

"_Thank you so much, Petey… You're such a lifesaver."_

_Peter smiled sadly as he got up to get her another box of tissues._

Parker just grinned at her knowingly as he walked past with the plates.

OoOo

**A/N: Thank you everyone who read this and for the reviews. I really appreciate your opinions. Anyway, this was the last of the prologues, and the rest of the story will be written in a much more straight forward manner. If you have any suggestions on how to fix the prologues, or any comments on what you think so far, I would really appreciate you letting me know. Thanks again for reading**

**-TheDancingFamilySkeleton**


	6. Chapter 1: Of Sorting Ceremonies

**Intertwined**

**Chapter 1: Of Sorting Ceremonies**

"_Ha ha Black, you're going to be one of the first ones sorted!"_

_ "Ha ha Potter, you're going to be one of the last!"_

_ -James Potter and Sirius Black; the 1971 Sorting Ceremony _

James couldn't believe it—he was finally here. He was finally at Hogwarts, the place where his dad had become best friends with his Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron, the place that his dad had always said was his first real home, the place where Uncle Ron had crashed into the famous Whomping Willow—the same Whomping Willow that had a tunnel under it that led to the Shrieking Shack, where his two namesakes and their best friend ran around on full moons. James, his patience finally having paid off, was at Hogwarts, _inside_ Hogwarts, about to be sorted.

With a grin on his face, James turned to Ian and Ethan who he had sat next to on the train.

"Can you believe it? We're actually here!" James announced, beaming. Ian and Ethan grinned back.

"I know! It's exactly how Dad described it!" Ethan agreed excitedly.

"I just can't wait to see the Great Hall!" Ian added enthusiastically, before adding with a bit of a frown, "Although, I wish we didn't have to get sorted. Do you think it'll hurt?"

"Nah. It wouldn't still be going on if it did," James shrugged, trying to ignore the small pit that suddenly appeared in his stomach.

He hadn't though much about the sorting—he'd just assumed he'd be in Gryffindor like the rest of his family was.

"Yeah, I guess," Ian said slowly, "I still wish it was done,"

"Yeah," Ethan agreed empathetically, "What house do you guys think you'll be in?"

"Gryffindor," James replied immediately, "Everyone in my family has been so far,"

"Really?" Ethan suddenly looked nervous, "My family's always Ravenclaw. Has been for the last century,"

James' pit grew.

"My mum and dad were Hufflepuffs," Ian added, looking stricken.

James, Ian and Ethan exchanged panicked looks, before James quickly spoke up.

"Well, that doesn't mean anything for sure, right? I mean, people don't always go into their family's houses, right? We could still end up together, yeah?"

"Yeah," Ethan said, looking relieved, "Yeah, we could,"

"Definitely," Ian agreed quickly.

James looked at his two new friends uneasily. Earlier that day, when James had first got on the train, he had joined Ian in his compartment and Ethan had quickly joined the pair of them. They had hit it off immediately. They all played Quidditch, they all supported the Appleby Arrows Quidditch Team and they all collected Chocolate Frog cards. To James, it seemed like a solid base for friendship. And now, James bit his lip in the awkward silence, it might be ruined.

"What house do you guys _want_ to be in?" James asked hesitantly.

Before either of them could reply though, Professor Sinistra, the tall dark women who had led them into Hogwarts from the boats and explained the four houses, reappeared in the doorway.

"Make a single file line and please follow me," Professor Sinistra said coolly.

James flashed Ethan and Ian, who still looked worried, a quick grin before strolling into the line as confidently as he could. He hoped they couldn't tell he was nervous too—he didn't want people to think he was some scaredy-cat.

Professor Sinistra waited until everyone had clambered into line before she turned swiftly on heel. The tiny red-haired girl at the front of the line scrambled to keep up. James followed the curly-haired boy in front of him out of the small chamber, across the hall and to the large wooden doors James was sure led to the Great Hall. As the doors opened, James craned his neck to try to see above the heads in front of him into the hall, but couldn't for at least another ten steps. Then, what he did see almost stopped him in his tracks.

James had heard descriptions of the Great Hall before and had even seen it in the background of old photographs but he had never understood it before. The Great Hall was huge and thousands of candles were floating in the air under a starlit sky that looked exactly like the one James had just seen outside. It was astounding and, a little less astounding but still amazing, was the rest of the hall.

There were four long, long wooden tables set with glittering gold silverware and goblets. That was where the rest of the student body was sitting in a sea of black.

At the table to the far left, James could see his cousin Victoire, with her short silvery blond hair and numerous piercings beaming at him, while Teddy Lupin, his dad's godson, was waving at him, his bright blue hair easily visible.

James felt himself grin a little despite his sudden nerves and gave them both a small wave, before searching the table for his other two cousins already at Hogwarts, Molly and Dominique. However, before he could find them, he banged into the boy in front of him.

"Hey, watch it," The boy muttered with a small frown.

James felt his checks heat up a little but grinned anyway, "Sorry. Wasn't looking where I was going," He murmured back.

"S'okay," the boy replied after a bit of an awkward pause.

Then James leaned out of the line a little to see what was going on.

James was, unfortunately, a little scrawny for his age and there were tons of tall people in front of him. If he craned his neck though, James could see Professor Sinistra place an ancient looking wizard's hat on a stool. It was patched, frayed and, if James wasn't mistaken, a little bit charred.

Staring at the hat like the rest of the hall, James bit his lip and tried to ease some of his nervousness by making up stories about what could have happened for the poor hat to get so beaten up. However, before he could get too inventive, the brim opened up and the hat began to sing.

"_Welcome one and Welcome all,_

_To this great and happy hall!_

_Here we are, and here you've come,_

_Step forward, put me on and don't be a bum._

_For…_

_I might place you in Gryffindor,_

_If courage and chivalry are what you stand for._

_Or in the house of Ravenclaw,_

_If wit and smarts are your hurrah._

_Maybe you're a Hufflepuff_

_If hard work and loyalty to you is no bluff._

_Or perhaps Slytherin is your future,_

_If ambition and stealth are to what you defer._

_But please, remember this, my friends:_

_It matters not what house you're in _

_And Sortings are better than a kick in the shin."_

"So, it's just some _hat_ that's going to tell us where we go? That's a bit of a let down," Ethan muttered behind James.

James flashed a smile over his shoulder while Professor Sinistra pulled out a very long scroll of parchment and coolly announced, "Ackerly, Julian,"

A small boy with brown hair stumbled up to the stool and jammed the hat on his head.

After several minutes, the hat announced, "Slytherin!"

The table to the far right burst into applause as the boy placed the hat back on the stool and scrambled to take his spot at his new house.

"Boot, Leon," Professor Sinistra called. Leon was quickly made a Hufflepuff

James watched the sorting with interest for several minutes, wondering just how the Sorting Hat decided how to put people into houses. He wondered if there was anything he could do to make the hat put him in Gryffindor. However, by the time the tenth person was sorting (Byrne, Malcolm—how could they still be on the B's?) James' interest began to slip a little and turn towards his own sorting.

Nobody in his family—not his parents, aunts, and uncles, grandparents, cousins or godbrother had breathed a word about it. While it was obvious that he had to try on the hat, he didn't know what the hat really did. Obviously it put them into houses, but how?

It didn't seem to say anything except the name of the house. Was it enchanted to squeeze your head really hard to see how you reacted to it or something? James speculated wildly.

If it did that, James was sure he had a chance of making Gryffindor—he had a pretty high tolerance of pain. James figured it came from falling off his broom so many times.

As James's mind continued to invent ways the hat could tell where he belonged, James began to feel even more uneasy. What would happen if he didn't get put in Gryffindor? What if he got put somewhere else, like Slytherin? James was a pretty good liar and could sneak out of bed at night without his parents knowing—did that make him a Slytherin? And what would happen it _did_? James panicked. Would Uncle Ron, who _hated_ Slytherins still talk about Quidditch with him? Trying to ignored these unsettling thoughts, James turned toward Ethan.

"Who're we on?"

"Millie Davis just got sorted," Ethan muttered back, looking a little green, "She's a Gryffindor. But what do you think is taking so long? How many people can there be before the H's? I've already counted 19 people—"

"Ravenclaw!" The hat shouted and a small girl stumbled off the stool to the table directly to their left.

"20 now," Ethan corrected, "who've been sorted and we're only on the D's! Dad said his class only had about 40 people total!"

James frowned and glanced up and down the line—there were definitely more people in the line than 40. In fact, James was willing to bet there were more than 50 people still in line and 20—

"Slytherin!"

21 people had already been sorted.

James uneasily wondered if this was the usual amount of people in a class or if theirs was just huge.

"My mum said that the magical population boomed after the Dark Wars—apparently Hogwarts is almost swamped with people and Headmaster Flitwick is considering—" Ian stopped talking and his face went white.

"Finch-Fletchty, Ian," Professor Sinistra repeated with a frown.

"Oops. Talk to you guys later," Ian muttered.

"Good-luck," James murmured as the boy passed him.

"Where do you think he'll go?" Ethan asked nervously.

"Dunno," But James secretly hoped Ian would be a Gryffindor.

"Hufflepuff!"

"There, I guess," James added lowly.

"Yeah, I guess," Ethan agreed with a nervous laugh as first 'Finnegan, Bronwyn' ("Hufflepuff!") and then 'Finnegan, Olivia' ("Gryffindor!") were called up.

James stared ahead unseeingly as Ethan fidgeted behind him. He hoped the next ten letters would go by really quickly. He wasn't sure how much longer he could wait.

Apparently Ethan agreed as he muttered, "How much longer will this—"

"Higgs, Ethan,"

"Oh."

"Good luck," James muttered once again as his second friend hurried forward to try on the hat.

James crossed his fingers the moment Ethan shoved on the hat and began to send a hasty prayer that Ethan would become a Gryffindor, but before James could even properly begin, the hat yelled, "Ravenclaw!"

James's stomach sank to his toes. Neither of his friends were in Gryffindor. They weren't even in the same house as each other, so there was no way they could all end up together. And James still very much wanted to be in Gryffindor.

However, before he could mourn the loss of his two new friends, a voice that sounded a lot like his Aunt Hermione barged into his head, "Just because you're not in the same house doesn't mean you can't be friends. Honestly. That's what's wrong with the House system. It separates people when they don't need to be separated."

This, oddly enough, made James feel a little better, although he did make a small mental note to stop eavesdropping on his parents and aunts and uncles so much—it was a sign that he didn't get out enough if he had them in his head.

James glanced at his watch—almost an hour had gone by since the sorting had begun—and then at the rest of the hall. Most of the students were talking quietly to their friends, a few of them were dozing off in their plates and James caught sight of Teddy changing his face so that he had a pig's nose, an elephant's ears, vampire fangs, yellow eyes and bright pink hair.

James sniggered just loudly enough for the curly haired boy in front of him to turn around, frowning, and ask, "What's so funny?"

James just discreetly pointed at Teddy before sniggering again.

"Whoa. How can he _do_ that?" the boy breathed as Teddy's face returned to normal.

"Teddy, that's the boy whose face is changing, is a Metamorphagus."

At the boy's blank look, James added, "Means he can change how he looks at will, without a wand or anything. It's pretty rare."

"That's wicked," the boy murmured, looking almost reverent.

"You should see his impressions of the Professors here," James grinned.

Then, "Lewis, Parker," was called forward and they both fell silent as they waited for the hat to call out the house. After a moment, it yelled, "Gryffindor!"

James sighed, "How long do you think we have until the P's?" he asked the boy in front of him.

"We have, what, only three letters to go?" the boy asked, "then you'll probably get sorted in another hour or two at the rate this is going,"

James snickered, "You're probably right. With my luck there'll be like a billion O's or something."

The boy groaned, "I hope not. This'll take long enough the way it is."

"What letter are you?"

"W, for White. My luck, I'll be the last one sorted."

"Nah, I heard from my uncle George, that's there's a Zonko this year, so you'll probably only be second last."

"Gee. Thanks. That makes me feel better," The boy muttered sarcastically.

James grinned, "No problem, I'm here to help!"

The boy just snorted and watched as "Nott, Edward," was called forward.

James stared ahead unseeingly for a while, trying not to think about his stomach, which was beginning to feel increasingly empty. He was almost more concerned about when he'd get to eat then what house he was sorted into—and that couldn't be good.

Finally though, they were on the P's. First "Partridge, Jill," then "Perks, DeeDee". James began to wonder if the world was just mocking him when, finally, "Potter, James."

"Thank Merlin," James muttered as he stepped out of line and walked toward the hat quickly—the faster he put the stupid thing on, and the faster he go sorted, the faster everyone else got sorted and then they could all eat. Plus, then, hopefully, that huge pit in his stomach would go away.

He had almost reached the stool when a loud voice yelled, "Go James!" and then another one shouted, "Rock on, Little Cousin!"

James glanced over to see Victoire standing up and giving him a 'rock on' hand signal while Teddy was clapping and grinning at him.

"Yeah! Way to walk to the hat!" Dominique, who James suddenly spotted at the far end of the table, cheered sarcastically.

"And don't worry!" Molly, who was sitting near Dominique, yelled sincerely, "We'll love you no matter what!"

James felt his face heat up as the rest of the students in the hall stirred to see what was going on.

James scowled at them—they weren't making this any easier—before sitting down on the stool and jamming the hat on his head, so that he could no longer see his stupid cousins. James waited under the hat, wondering what was going to happen now.

"Interesting," a small voice—the hat, James realized with a jolt—"Very interesting… A bright mind and a lot of curiosity, yes, but no drive to learn… A cunning streak but no real ambition… Loyalty definitely, but absolutely no interest in hard work—well," The voice added, sounding a little amused, "Unless it helps you or someone you care about. Brave, definitely, a bit reckless too, but not overly noble. Just a mess of contradictions, you are…"

James wondered if the hat would finish up soon. James wanted to eat and, while he knew the sorting was very important, he just couldn't forget his hunger long enough to care. Besides, that pit in his stomach was beginning to churn too, even though James studiously ignored it.

The hat chuckled, "Alright, then, you'd better go to…. Gryffindor!" The hat shouted the last word to the rest of the hall.

"Thanks," James muttered to the hat quickly as he took it off and hurried over to the Gryffindor table where everyone was cheering—and those who weren't cheering weren't only because they were too busy laughing at Teddy and Victoire, who had both stood up and begun stomping their feet while clapping and making very odd sounding war cries as they danced around in place.

James thought they looked stupid and would have teased them about it if they weren't so deeply entrenched in upper-class territory. As it was, the fifth and seventh years were probably best to avoid for the first couple of weeks, James thought as he sat next to another first year boy at the end of table.

"Hey, I'm James Potter," James introduced himself as he sat down.

The boy he was sitting next to shot him a grin, "Harry Peterson. And these are Chloe Moore, Stephen Creevy and Tom Darcy," Harry said, indicting the first years closest to them, "I don't know the rest of them."

"Nice to meet you,"

"You too," the boys and Chloe all muttered before turning back to watch as "Puecy, Calliope" ran off to the Slytherin table and "Reese, Lilian", the small redhead who had led them in, sat down to get sorted.

"Gryffindor!" The hat yelled and Lilian ran over to join them. She slid in next to Stephen and across from James.

"Hi," she said breathlessly before turning back to the Sorting.

James watched for a while and clapped when "Rising, Ellie", "Ryans, Sophie", and "Scrooge, Holly" joined the Gryffindor table.

However, James was finding it harder and harder to pay attention to anything besides his complaining stomach. By the time, "Thomas, Benjamin" joined the Gryffindor table, James wasn't doing much besides starting at his plate, longingly wishing for food to appear.

However, he did glance up when "White, Sirius," (the boy in front of him in line) was called and grinned and clapped enthusiastically when he joined the Gryffindor table.

"Ha!" Sirius grinned at James as he sat down several seats away, "I was _sixth_ last, not second last!"

James laughed before cheering as "Wolfe, Romulus", a pale-faced boy with big eyes and glasses joined the Gryffindor table.

Then, finally, "Zonko, Juno" was sorted and the feast began in a whirl of food, smells and laughter.

James talked to almost all of his classmates as the dinner wore on, finding that it seemed that he liked all of them, except for maybe Stephen Creevy, who kept scowling at him for some reason. He endured Teddy, Victoire and Dominique's good-natured taunts and Molly's earnest, if a bit annoying, welcome, which involved her dragging him away from the first years to be introduced to her second year friends. Most of them seemed like a bunch of giggling, silly girly girls.

And then, when he finally finished all of the delicious food he could eat, Headmaster Flitwick, a very tiny man with white hair, stood up on his chair in the middle of the Head Table.

As he stood, the Great Hall slowly fell silent.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" Flitwick beamed, "I have a few start of term notices, but I'll try to make them brief. Firstly, the Forest at the edge of the grounds is forbidden for all students, the Whomping Willow is not a toy, and that for those of you going to Hogsmeade the Shrieking Shack is off of limits for everyone. The Ministry has decided to place some decidedly nasty spirits in there. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Hugh, would like me to remind you that no magic is permitted in the corridors, and all Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes products are _strictly_ prohibited."

James exchanged grins down the table with Teddy—Uncle George, who owned WWW, had made Teddy an offer that summer that involved him selling the products to the students. Teddy had made a deal with James to help sell them off to the first and second years.

"Now, if Prefects would please lead the first years to their Common room, I believe this night is finished!"

As soon as Professor Flitwick finished, the Great Hall burst into a dull roar, as everyone began talking and going to their dormitories at once. James frowned and shifted as he exchanged glances with his fellow first years—where were their prefects? Then, James heard a very familiar voice.

"Oh, crap! The first years! OY! Jeremy! We got to help the firsties!" Victoire shouted as she came strolling over to hem.

Behind her, a tall boy with glasses swore loudly and followed her. Finally, they stood in front of them.

"Okay firsties, I'm Vic Weasley, this is Jeremy Smith and we're your 5th year prefects. So follow us and we'll get you to the tower in no time flat. Just keep up, okay?" Victoire told them bluntly, her tongue piercing flashing oddly as she spoke.

Looking around, James saw most of his classmates gaping at her. Tom Darcy's eyes looked they were going to bulge out and Lauren Burke had shrunk back.

Victoire, however, took no notice of them and swept around. James, grinning at everyone's reaction to his cousin and her many piercings (she also had two eyebrow piercings, a nose stud, a lip ring and five holes in each ear), stood up and casually strolled after her before everyone abruptly stood up and hurried to catch up.

As they took numerous twists and turns and climbed staircases and went through hidden doors and passageways, James felt his feet begin to drag—he was exhausted. Just as James was about to collapse and very dramatically cry that he could go no further, they reached the end of a long corridor where a portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress stood.

James perked up—this must be the Fat Lady!

"Password?" she asked.

"Tufty Turban," Jeremy replied and the Fat Lady swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall.

James was the first to scramble through after Victoire and Jeremy and he looked around the common room happily.

It was round and cozy and had a lot of squishy armchairs.

"Alright," Victoire said once they'd all climbed through, "Since there are so many of you, we're doing something a little bit different this year. There will be four rooms for you lot instead of the usual two—there will be two in the girls' dorm and two in the boys and you'll have to sign up for your room. So, girls follow me and boys follow Jeremy," And with that, Victoire marched off one way with the girls trailing behind while Jeremy led them up a spiral staircase.

Once they reached the very top of the staircase, Jeremy threw open a door to reveal a comfortable looking room with five beds.

"Okay, who wants to sleep in here?" Jeremy asked.

James looked around. The first person who stepped forward was Stephen Creevy, which decided it for James—he wasn't sleeping down here with the boy who seemed to hate him. No way, no how.

Luckily, it didn't have to seem too obvious that James didn't want to stay there as Tom Darcy, then Harry Person, Ben Thomas and, finally, Jack Wood, all hurriedly stepped into the room, signing their names on the crumpled sheet of parchment Jeremy had pulled from his pocket.

"Okay. You guys are Dorm Two then." Jeremy told them before turning to face James and the three boys still standing with him—curly-haired Sirius White, pale-faced Romulus Wolfe and a small weedy boy James was pretty sure was named Parker Lewis.

"And then you guys will be in Dorm One."

Jeremy, for some odd reason, looked at the ceiling and then back at James and the three others.

"You might want to step down a couple steps."

Exchanging looks of confusion, they quickly did as told while Jeremy waved his wand at the ceiling and muttered something. To James' utter shock, a small section of the stone ceiling turned into a thick wooden trap door. It quickly opened and a rope ladder tumbled down.

"You guys are going to be in the actual top of the tower. No one's had to use it in the past two centuries or so, but the House Elves cleaned it up, so you should be fine. But, uh," Here Jeremy scratched his head, looking a little sheepish, "There's no bathroom up there, so, if you have to go really badly, I think you have some chamber pots. Otherwise, just wait till the morning and use their," he gestured toward the staring boys in Dorm Two, "bathroom. Also, make sure you pull up the ladder when you're all in and close the trapdoor at night, but keep the door open and ladder down during the day. And I think that's it. Night," And with that, Jeremy hurried away.

Jack and Tom gave them weak and a little bit relieved smiles before shutting their door behind them.

James stared at the rope ladder and a feeling of dread slowly came over him.

"Well, let's get to it, I guess," James muttered as he walked forward and carefully climbed up the ladder, trying not to let it sway too much.

Finally, after what seemed like forever to James' poor, tired limbs, his head peeked through the trap door. Letting a small smile of triumph cross his face, James put his hands on the cold stone floor and started to push himself up… only to bang his head really hard.

"OW!" he yelped, immediately ducking back down again.

"James?" Romulus asked cautiously, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just peachy," James grumbled as he craned his neck to see what he hit. It appeared to be the underside of a desk, "Just banged my hade on a desk on top of the door, that's all."

James lifted himself up a little and crawled on his belly into the room.

"Let me move it out of the way and then you guys can come up okay?" James called down.

"Yeah."

"Great."

James stood up and looked around the room that would be his home for the next seven years.

His first impression was that it was very small. The dorm was completely circulatory and around the room, arranged like spokes in a wheel, were four beds, their headboards against the wall and foot-boards pointed toward the middle of the room where the desk and trap door were situated. In between each bed there was only enough room for a small dresser and the trunks placed at the foot of the bed were only about three steps away from the desk which was carefully arranged on top of the trapdoor.

James' second thought as he began to awkwardly drag the desk back toward the trunks was that it was a very good thing he wasn't scared of heights. Above each headboard was a large window that stared out into the dark night and down about twenty stories.

However, before James could verify that, one of the desk legs got caught on a trunk as he tried to maneuver it and snapped off, causing the leg to go flying and the desk to drop to the floor with a crash.

"James?" Another voice, this one Parker's, asked hesitantly, "What's going on up there?"

"Stupid leg busted off," James grumbled, "But you can come up now."

So they did. Parker climbed up first and stared at the room uncertainly before grabbing the desk leg and walking over to where James stood trapped behind the desk and between two beds. He skirted the hole that Romulus was now cautiously climbing out of and held the leg out to him.

"Er, here."

"Thanks," James said dryly, accepting it with a dubious look.

Then, Sirius climbed out of the trapdoor and gave the room a doubtful look. James suddenly noticed that some of the stone in the walls were crumbling and that it was much colder up here than it had been in the hall below.

"Nice place we've got here," Sirius said wryly, his eyes finally landing on the broken desk, James and the snapped off leg he was holding.

Sirius pulled up the ladder and pushed the trapdoor shut. It closed with a loud bang that probably would have shaken the floor if it hadn't been stone.

"Take it you broke the desk?" he asked blandly.

"Yep. You want to help me move it?" James asked, gesturing at the rickety old thing with the table leg.

"Not really," But Sirius walked over to him anyway and, together, they lifted the desk and put it back over the trapdoor and ladder.

"Where's the chair?" Sirius asked once they finally decided to leave the desk leg off and try to fix it in the morning.

James shrugged.

"Doesn't have one, does it?" Sirius asked after a moment.

"Don't think so,"

"Great," Sirius replied in inflectionless voice.

"It could be worse," Parker piped up after a minute of silence where they all surveyed the room (which, James realized had to be in the very, _very_ top of the tower because their roof wasn't flat—it narrowed out to a point at the top).

"Yeah," Sirius agreed as he calmly walked over to a bed, "It could be infested by bugs."

"Or have a whole bunch of animal droppings," James added as he walked to the bed next to Sirius' where his trunk was.

"And it doesn't leak," Romulus added quietly as he climbed into the bed next to James'.

"Right," Parker agreed as he finally claimed the bed across from James, "Besides, we've got a great view."

But, as James lay freezing under his covers, he couldn't help but wish he'd volunteered to go to Dorm Two. They probably weren't freezing, even if they did have to deal Stephen Creevy, the-weird-kid-who-glares.

**A/N: Firstly, this chapter is longer than the usual chapter will be. This was ten pages typed. The next ones are more like 6 or 7 pages typed. Secondly, this update was much quicker than updates will usually be. **

**Anyway, I always love feedback, especially criticism, so any you have is more than welcome!**

**-TheDancingFamilySkeleton**


	7. Chapter 2: Of Bugs and Bad Ideas

**Intertwined**

**Chapter 2: Of Bugs and Bad Ideas**

_"Would any of you care to explain how, exactly, you managed to completely destroy all of our Halloween decorations in the half hour we left you alone?"_

_"Well, Professor, it's kind of a long story. But, the gist of it is... well, we're not exactly sure."_

_-Professor Minerva McGonagall and Peter Pettigrew; an hour before the 1977 Halloween Feast  
_

James woke up the next morning to a loud yelp. A lifetime of having 24 cousins—most of whom had a strange sense of humor—had James out of his bed and holding a pillow over his head in the classic 'attack' position within seconds. However, used to more room, he'd also stubbed his toe and nearly toppled into the bed next to him. All the same, he ignored his throbbing toe and wildly looked around for the source of the noise.

He immediately spotted Romulus standing on his bed, looking very much like he wanted to run away.

"Wha' happen?" Sirius mumbled, looking disheveled as he lifted part of his pillow off his head.

"There's—there's this really gross _bug_ thing crawling around near my bed," Romulus was obviously trying to stay calm.

James briefly admired the way the boy had kept his voice level before noting that he needed to work on his facial expressions. Romulus would quite obviously have liked to be anywhere but where he was—namely in the same room as the bug.

James sighed while Sirius groaned, "Jus' _smash_ it. S'not a big deal."

Then Sirius promptly rolled over and put the pillow back over his head. James looked from his warm, comfy bed to Romulus' terrified face. James sighed again and put his pillow back on his bed.

"Do you have a tissue, or something?" he asked Romulus. His mum had, of course, made him pack tissues, but James was pretty sure he had shoved them to the bottom of his trunk. And he really didn't want to look for them just yet.

"Yeah. On top of my trunk," Romulus said, still sounding fairly calm.

James frowned, but then spotted the tissue box resting neatly on Romulus' trunk.

"Great," James said as he padded over and grabbed a tissue to kill the bug with. "Now where—" James let out a yelp and took a flying leap onto Romulus's bed, "What was that thing?" He demanded, scrambling to his feet and standing as near to the middle of the bed as Romulus would let him.

"The creepy bug thing!" Romulus snapped, his voice finally shaking a little.

"That wasn't a bug! That was a monster!"

"Oh for the love of—" Sirius had sat up and was glaring at them through bleary eyes, "_I'll_ kill it, if it'll stop the two of you from shrieking."

James crept toward the end of Romulus' bed and toward the middle of the room.

"Be my guest," James announced, holding out the tissue to him.

Sirius' eyes narrowed some more, but he flung his legs off his bed and strode over to them. He snatched the tissue out of James's hand and looked around.

"Where is it?" Sirius demanded.

James heartbeat sped up and his eyes widened. He hadn't kept track of it. What if it was climbing Romulus's bed _right now_?

"It—" Romulus gulped, "It went toward the desk."

"Idiots," muttered Sirius as he spun around and stalked toward the desk.

Then, James saw it. The dark green, slimy-looking thing with about a million legs that was at least two times as big as his hand.

"There it is!" he shouted, pointing at it.

Sirius whirled around, clearing intending to swoop down on it. However, the moment he saw it, he let out a loud shout and sprinted away from it and towards Romulus' bed as it quickly moved its legs. It darted towards Sirius' foot.

"Come on!" James shouted and Sirius leapt, just as the bug-thing struck the place where Sirius' foot had been.

James and Romulus had both darted forward and caught Sirius by the armpits before he could crash back to the floor. Sirius quickly scampered off of Romulus's trunk and onto the bed as the bug-thing scuttled back to the desk and stood on top of the trap door.

"What _is_ that thing?"

James' head snapped around to see Parker sitting straight up in his bed and staring at the creature in morbid fascination. James quickly ran through a list of every bug he had ever heard of—muggle and magical alike.

Finally, he said, "No clue. Now, how do we get rid of it?" James looked from Romulus' anxious face to Sirius' tight one to Parker's thoughtful one. All three were staring at the bug-thing.

"Does anyone have a jar?" Parker finally asked.

"Erm, yeah. Why?" Romulus asked slowly.

"Well," Parker began, his gaze flickering between Romulus and the bug-thing, "I don't really want to just kill it, but if we can get it into a jar, maybe we could—you know—" Parker shrugged sheepishly, "Catch it."

"How're we gonna do that? Have someone dangle a foot off the bed in front of the jar and say 'supper time'?" Sirius asked sarcastically.

Parker paused and then muttered, "Er, I hadn't actually gotten that far yet."

"Brilliant," Sirius mumbled.

James bristled and wanted to snap at Sirius for being so crabby. However, he stopped himself just in time. After all, Sirius could just not be a morning person and James didn't want to make him even crabbier.

So, instead, he said, "Romulus, can you get the jar? We can figure out how to capture it while you're getting it."

"Sure," Romulus mumbled before walking forward to the end of his bed. He leaned down and, keeping an eye on the monstrous bug, opened his trunk. With much difficulty and a fair bit of digging and quick glances to check the bug's position (it hadn't moved yet), Romulus pulled out a large jar.

"So, maybe we can ambush it?" James suggested hesitantly.

Sirius stared, "How?"

"Well, we are bigger than it," Parker began nervously, "So, well, maybe if we all get on our own bed and jump down and, and _rush_ it…"

"Yeah!" James' eyes lit up—this could work, "And three of us could run at it and push it towards the other person who can slam it into the jar!"

"Alright. That, that could possibly work," Sirius agreed doubtfully.

There was a pause.

"Who's going to catch it?"

James's eyes widened. He hadn't thought of that. He knew he didn't want to be the one to have the bug run towards him. He looked uneasily from Parker to Sirius to Romulus.

"I—I'll do it," Romulus volunteered in a small voice.

"You sure?" James asked, not really wanting to ask but feeling like he should.

"Yes. I—yes, I'll do it," Romulus repeated, gulping.

"Okay, great," James sighed, nearly sagging with relief.

"So, back to our own beds?" Sirius suggested.

"Uh-huh," James agreed.

Parker pushed back his covers and stood up. James leapt off Romulus' bed and onto his own, staggering to his knees as he landed. Sirius followed and then made the jump onto his own bed.

"So, erm," Romulus shut the lid on his trunk and stood on it, looking pale but determined, "Do I get down first and then you jump, or do we all just go at the same time?"

"Er," James exchanged glances with Parker and Sirius and then at the nasty bug-creature, "Same time?"

"Sounds good."

"Alright."

"Great."

There was an awkward pause.

"On three?" Parker suggested.

"Yeah, okay." Sirius agreed.

"You ready, Romulus?" James asked.

The pale boy unscrewed the lid, adjusted his grip and nodded grimly.

"Okay then," James swallowed, "Everyone ready?"

"Yeah."

"Yes."

"I guess."

James sent Sirius a glare for his rather lackluster answer. Then he climbed onto his trunk—Parker and Sirius did the same.

"Okay—on three. One! Two! Three!"

And they all jumped.

The next minute was a blur to James. He knew he was running and he knew Parker had let out a yell and the next thing he knew he had run into the desk, someone had fallen on top of him and Romulus was yelling, "I got it! I got it!"

Then, there was a loud banging on the trapdoor.

"Be quiet!" a hoarse, sleep filled voice yelled up, "Some people are trying to sleep down here!"

"Oh. Sorry!" Sirius yelled down. Then everything fell silent.

"Get off me," James finally muttered to whoever had landed on him.

"Oh, sorry," Parker mumbled, rolling off of him.

James sat up with a wince. As he did, he saw Romulus sprawled out on the floor, Parker's trunk knocked over as if he had tripped over it, holding the closed jar with the bug thing squeaking around inside it. Sirius was sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the desk from everyone else. James craned his neck and saw him rubbing his knee and wincing.

"So, we caught it" Parker said, as if wanting to make sure that they had.

"Yes," Romulus replied, still clutching the jar tightly.

James looked at the jar in Romulus's hands, to Parker, to Sirius to the clock.

"Great," James tried to sound enthusiastic, really he did, "But, uh," James scratched his head awkwardly, "I think we've only got an hour to get to breakfast and we have to share the bathroom with the other guys, right?"

Sirius and Parker stared at him blankly.

"Your point?" Sirius asked pointedly.

"All nine of us need to get ready in an hour. And we still have to figure out where the Great Hall is, so we'll probably want to leave a little early," Romulus replied, still clutching the jar.

"Not to mention that we still have to get rid of—" James grappled for a word, "that thing," he finally said rather lamely, gesturing at their prize.

"I say we chuck it out the window," Sirius suggested, glaring at it.

"Look at how many legs it's got. It will probably climb back in. Then we'll have to catch it all over again," Parker pointed out gloomily.

Sirius shook his head, "Not if we throw it out the window while it's still in the jar. Then it'll just _die_,"

James thought Sirius looked altogether too gleeful at that thought.

"No. That would break the jar, and I need it," Romulus announced, looking scared but determined.

"For _what_?" Sirius demanded, baffled.

"I just do, okay?" Romulus snapped.

"But—" Sirius began.

"If Romulus doesn't want us to break his jar, then we won't," James interrupted. Sirius looked crestfallen.

"We'll just—we'll—" James glanced around the tower top desperately, "We'll drown it?" James finally suggested.

"Drown it?" asked Sirius doubtfully, "How?"

"Er," James stalled. He wasn't exactly sure how they'd drown it—it had just happened to be the first idea he'd had.

"We'll just—just fill the jar with water. From the other dormitory's bathroom," Parker explained, looking a little bit unsure. James, though, jumped at the idea.

"Exactly! That's—that's exactly what I was going to say! Exactly it!"

"Right," Sirius said flatly, looking very unimpressed.

However, since he didn't have a better idea, they all pushed the desk out of the way and climbed down into the hallway. After awkwardly knocking on the door and hiding the bug-creature behind their backs, they talked their way into the bathroom.

"Now what?" Romulus hissed as they stood awkwardly in the bathroom, looking at one another.

"Erm, maybe if we, er, turn on the faucet and then—then just unscrew the cap and, and fill the jar…" James began uncomfortably.

Sirius looked at the struggling bug and its pincers and then at James.

"You're barking," Sirius announced flatly, "If we do that, it'll escape."

James was really beginning to lose his patience. This was not how he'd imagined his first day at Hogwarts beginning, and Sirius was not helping any.

"Got any better ideas if you're so brilliant?" James snapped as he snatched the jar from Romulus.

Sirius, Parker and Romulus were all silent.

James turned on the sink and began to unscrew the jar. The bug's struggles became stronger and more desperate. James shoved the jar under the faucet and moved the cap off to the side just enough to let the water in. The jar began to fill and James, feeling a bit smug, sent Sirius a triumphant look.

That was when the bug made its mad bid for freedom and began to squeeze its head out of the jar. James let out a yelp and started to panic. He dropped the jar into the sink with a _clunk_ and the bug scurried out of it.

"Catch it!" Parker yelled.

The bug was already climbing out of the sink faster than James thought possible. He watched it in horror for a moment.

"What's going on in there?" a boy—Jack Wood, James thought wildly—called in.

"Nothing!" Sirius and James yelled simultaneously as Parker leapt toward the bug.

He missed as it scuttled sideways onto the wall. So, Parker grabbed the jar and tried to slam it over the bug. Only, the thing was so big that it caught only the middle of it, cutting the bug into huge, disgusting thirds.

"Gross," Romulus muttered, staring at the dead creature and its slimy blood.

James didn't saying anything. He just stood there, trying not to splutter. Somehow, and James wasn't sure how, when Parker had grabbed the jar to catch the bug, all of the water had ended up on James.

There was a beat of silence.

"Well," Sirius finally remarked dryly, "This day is just off to a really brilliant start."

"Shut up, White," James ordered absently as he stood there, dripping.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please tell me what you think! I'd really appreciate any and all criticisms.**


	8. Chapter 3: Of Getting Lost

**Intertwined**

**Chapter 3**:** Of Getting Lost**

"_Well… to be honest, a lot of it came about on accident. We didn't do half of what everyone thought we did. We just… well, if people assumed we did something really amazing, we didn't bother to correct them."_

_-Remus Lupin to Lily Potter on the Marauders' reputation at Hogwarts, 1979_

After James and the others had cleaned up what remained of the bug, gotten ready for the day and left the tower, they promptly became completely lost.

"We went through here, I think," Romulus said timidly as he peered through an archway.

"No, I don't think we did. I mean," Parker hurriedly added, "I'm sure we went through an arch, I just—I thought the one we went through had, er, well, no engravings on it. But I don't know. Maybe you're right and I just forgot about the, erm, flowers being on it or something."

"Oh," Romulus deflated, "No, I think you're right."

"So, which way did we go last night, then?" James asked, looking anxiously at the three hallways branching off before them.

"Potter. We didn't go this way. That bloody staircase got us off at the wrong hallway. We're on the opposite side of the _castle_ from where we were last night," Sirius interrupted wearily.

James glared at him. Sirius was being really uncooperative. He hadn't tried to help them with the directions at all and he hadn't even said anything about them being on the wrong floor until now.  
"Then what do _you_ think we should do if you're so clever?" James demanded.

"Go that way," Sirius pointed at the hallway to their right, "If we keep going that way, eventually we should run into the Great Hall," Sirius paused and added, "I'm pretty sure we will, at least."

"You're—you're pretty sure?" Parker asked timidly.

"What if you're wrong? And we just get more lost?" James asked pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest and trying not to lose his temper.

In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't Sirius's fault that they were lost and might miss breakfast. But, mainly, James was hungry and if Sirius had known that they were going the wrong way and that the staircase had messed them up, he should have _said_ something. Then! They could have fixed it then, but now… well, now James wasn't even sure where that stupid staircase _was_, much less how to get back to the Great Hall from there.

"Potter, we're already so lost I don't think it'll make much of a difference," Sirius replied flatly, "And at least if we go this way, we'll be going somewhere instead of standing here and arguing like idiots."

Parker, who had been doing most of the arguing (if you could even call his polite, quiet and unsure interruptions 'arguing'), began to flush and look even more miserable than he had before. James opened his mouth to yell at Sirius for upsetting Parker when he was just trying to help, which up until a minute ago Sirius hadn't been doing a lot of, but Sirius kept talking.

"I'm going this way. It's better than just standing here, trying to figure out what to do."

And with that, Sirius started down the long hallway he'd pointed to before. Romulus and Parker both turned to look at James.

"Er," James began awkwardly, staring at Sirius' retreating back, "Guess we should follow him," he finally muttered, "Don't want him getting hurt or anything."

He then hurried after Sirius, so that Romulus and Parker wouldn't see him flush.

Get hurt or anything? What was he, James thought furiously, stupid? How could you get hurt at Hogwarts just trying to get to the Great Hall?

In truth, James just didn't want to get separated. This was freaky enough without wondering where one of them went off too. And besides, it wasn't like James really had any better ideas.

After twenty more minutes of consistently going down and to the right whenever they could, they were still lost. Only this time, they were also cold and quite probably in the dungeons.

"Brilliant," James muttered sarcastically as they trudged forward, "Just brilliant."

"Shut up Potter!" Sirius snapped, "I didn't see you coming up with any better ideas!"

"I just can't believe we haven't run into anyone yet! What is this, hide-in-the-closet-when-the-stupid-lost-first-years-walk-by day or something?" James grumbled. "I mean, it's not like we've been quiet or anything—someone should have heard us and come to help already!"

"Yeah, because the Professors don't have anything better to do than track down lost first years," Sirius retorted sarcastically.

He had a good point, James admitted grudgingly, and the hallways they'd been walking in had all seemed pretty deserted… but still!

"We haven't even run into any portraits we can ask!" James whined as he dramatically threw his hands up into the air. He regretted saying that the moment he finished and about a half second before the snickering started.

"Well," Sirius began with a sly grin, "we did run into that one portrait, didn't we guys?"

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd have loved to have helped," Parker snickered.

"I meant a _sane_ portrait," James howled, blushed furiously.

"Well, she can't help it if she was driven mad by her _lurve_ for you!" Sirius teased.

"And she was more than willing to help us!"

Parker sounded way too amused, James thought grumpily.

"Oh, _Jaaames_," Sirius began in a high-pitched voice, "You're a _Poooootter_? Oooh! I knew your grandfather! I _lurved_ your grandfather and I lurve you too, you eleven-year-old stud, you!"

"Oh, shut up," James muttered, shoving Sirius as he barked out a laugh.

"Oh come on James, it was really funny. Admit it," Parker wheedled, grinning widely.

"No, it wasn't! It was creepy!" James exclaimed. "Romulus, back me up," James whirled around, walking backwards to see Romulus fighting a grin.

"Oh, I dunno. I thought it was kind of sweet. She loves you!"

Parker and Sirius started to laugh even harder.

James felt something loosen inside of him and he started to smile a bit, before sticking his nose up in the air.

"Fine. _Be_ that way. But I know you're all just jealous that she loves me and not you," James announced loftily.

All four boys were sent into gales of laughter as they took a right turn. And James felt his heart lift because there, in front of them, were the rest of the Gryffindor first years. James felt a wave of relief crash over him, causing him to laugh even harder. Beside him, he heard Sirius, Parker and Romulus have the same reaction.

"Where are _you_ coming from?" a girl (Ravenclaw, James noted vaguely; they must be having potions together) asked them snootily.

"Oh, you know," James replied airily, still grinning from ear to ear, "Around."

Parker snickered and Romulus looked amused.

The girl scowled at them, "You were _supposed_ to be in the Great Hall and then come straight to Potions." She told them accusingly.

James felt a little bit uneasy as he exchanged glances with his roommates. From the looks on their faces, they wanted to admit to being lost, missing breakfast and stumbling onto their class by accident just as much as he did.

"Your point? We're still here on time, aren't we? So no harm done," Sirius pointed out reasonably.

The girl scowled at them. James was just feeling really relieved that they'd brought all of their books and things with them when they first left the tower.

"My _point_ is that you shouldn't just be wandering around! You could get lost!" the girl shrilled.

James felt his lips twitch and he had to try very hard not to look at Sirius, Romulus or Parker or he was sure he'd burst out laughing. And if this girl was like any of his cousins, she would not appreciate it very much.

"Think that's funny?" Creevey scowled as he elbowed his way to the front of the crowd, "Think that because you're the great James Potter you wouldn't get lost? Or in trouble?" He sneered.

James stared, shocked. He knew Creevey hadn't liked him, but this? James had barely even spoken to him before!

"What is your problem, Creevey?" James scowled, "I haven't done anything to you. I don't even know you! Why do you ke—"

"Good morning, class," a voice broke in, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything boys, but I'm afraid we're running a bit behind schedule so, if you'll excuse me…" And with that, a tall weedy looking man strode through the crowd and opened the door to the Potions classroom, leading them inside.

James entered the classroom and noted where Creevey had sat (in the back right corner) and immediately sped to the very front row, scowling. He slammed down into a seat and glared at the front of the room furiously.

"Er, mind if I sit here?" Romulus asked, tentatively gesturing at the chair that shared James' desk.

"Go ahead," James replied tightly, seeing that Sirius and Parker had grabbed the desk behind theirs.

Romulus sat down. James clenched his jaw and tracked their Professor's movements at his desk, obviously gathering up his lesson plan for the day.

James couldn't stop himself, "Just who does he think he is?" He burst out in a violent whisper.

Romulus jumped about a mile and banged his knee of the desk.

"Ow!" he hissed.

"Oh," James felt some of his anger slip away, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"That's okay," Romulus grimaced, rubbing his knee.

"It's just—"James began, frustrated, "I've never done anything to that—that _prat_ and he just be—"

"Quiet everyone," the Professor announced, and the class immediately quieted down.

James scowled at his desk, almost wishing he, Romulus, Parker and Sirius were still lost.

"Welcome to Potions class. I'm Professor Nott and I will be your teacher for the next five years, perhaps more if you're lucky. That being said, I'd like to lay a few ground rules. As some of you may know, we will be dealing with a great many of volatile ingredients in this class. If they are combined incorrectly, there are practically always some sort of—" Professor Nott paused, as if searching for a hard to find word, "side-effects, you might say. Occasionally you'll be lucky and your potion will only fail to do what it's supposed to. Most of the time, however, you will end up with a melted cauldron, an explosion or somehow mange to fill the entire classroom with toxic gas."

Nott's gaze flicked to James as he said that, and James was suddenly struck with a vivid memory of his mum and dad rushing to Hogwarts because of an accident Teddy had caused in his third year potion class.

"As such, it is very important that you pay attention. We will always go over the potions a day before we make them and I will always at least briefly touch on some of the more common mistakes made and what will happen if you make them. I expect that you won't," Nott's eyes were hard as he glanced around at them, "Besides paying attention, on days when we are brewing, I expect you to tell me the minute anything funny starts happening with your potion. If you try to fix it on your own—at least this year—there will be dire consequences."

James, for one, believed him.

"And finally, just the basics that you should follow in every class. Be on time, finish your assignments by the day it's due, no talking out of turn and so on and so forth."

James glanced at Romulus, wondering if this professor was as intimidating as James thought he was. Judging by the fact that Romulus was paler than he was earlier and his eyes had doubled in size, James wasn't alone in being half petrified of the teacher.

"Any questions?" Nott asked.

The entire classroom was deadly quiet.

"Excellent. Now please pull out some parchment so we can begin to take notes. Potions is one of the oldest branches of magic and is often considered one of the most powerful. Properly brewed potions can—"

And they were off.

By the time class was done, James' head was spinning and his hand was cramped.

"I don't think I've ever written so fast in my life," James groaned as he and Romulus left the classroom. Romulus gave a small, quick smile.

"That was a lot of information he gave us," Romulus agreed softly.

"A lot of information?" Sirius asked incredulously as he came up behind them, "I think my head's going to explode!"

"I feel like mine already did," Parker moaned, coming up on Romulus' other side.

"I thought it was really interesting!" a cheerful voice interrupted.

James turned to see Ethan grinning at him a little nervously.

James grinned back. "That's because you must be some kind of nerd or something," he joked.

Ethan looked relieved as James turned back around to introduce him.

"Guys, this is Ethan Higgs. We met on the train. Ethan, these are my roommates, Sirius White, Romulus Wolfe and Parker Lewis."

"It's really nice to meet you, Higgs," Sirius said absentmindedly, "But Potter? We've got to keep up with the class here. We don't know our schedule, remember?"

James' face fell; he'd been looking forward to talking to Ethan. Not that Sirius, Romulus and Parker weren't nice or anything, but…

"Yeah," James sighed heavily, "You're right."

"Why don't you have your schedule? Didn't your head of house hand them out to you?" Ethan asked, looking confused.

"It's a bit of a long story, Ethan. Talk to you later, yeah?" James hedged as he took a few steps after Parker, who was the last in line to follow the others.

"Sure. See you later, James," Ethan frowned, looking a little disappointed.

But James didn't have time to worry about that now, the rest of the Gryffindors were about to turn a corner and James refused to get lost again. He hurried after them.

With the help of Olivia Finnegan, a talkative sandy-haired girl, James and the others made it to their next two classes alright.

Their third class was Herbology. After sheepishly explaining to Neville—Professor Longbottom, James had to keep correcting himself—that they'd gotten lost, they got their schedules. The rest of the day went, if not smoothly, at least not badly.

By common consent, the boys of Dorm One kept really close to another group of Gryffindor first years at all times. That way, if they did get lost again (which they did, several times, although nothing major) at least they'd be with other people. They also agreed not to tell anyone—especially not Creevey, James scowled—about where they really were that morning.

So, in between trying not to get lost and the mind boggling amount of information that Nott, Gamp (the witch who'd replaced McGonagall as Transfiguration Professor and Head of Slytherin), Jones (Charms witch and Head of Hufflepuff) and Nev—Longbottom had thrown at them, James really couldn't wait to just crawl in bed and get the day over with.

"Do you think anyone else is almost done?" asked James at dinner.

He, Parker, Romulus and Sirius had all finished eating and James was anxious to get back to the Common Room.

"Keep your shirt on, Potter," Sirius rolled his eyes, "I'm sure someone is. What's the big rush anyway?"

James shrugged, "Got to write home for one. Mum and Dad will murder if I don't—well," James paused thoughtfully, "Mum, more than Dad really, but still, dying isn't fun no matter who kills you."  
Sirius grinned, "Wow, that's philosophy for you, isn't it?"

"How does the writing home thing work anyway?" Parker piped up, "How do we send letters home? Do we get mail service or something?"

"What? No! Mailmen can't see Hogwarts. No, we use owls. Mum and Dad got me one just before I came here. His name's Porcupine and he's really brilliant. I can show him to you tomorrow!" James' eyes lit up with excitement.

That had been the highlight of the summer, getting Porcupine.

"But," Parker bit his lip, "What if, well, what if you don't have an owl?"

"Oh," James shrugged, "No worries. The school's got owls you can use to send letters home. Besides, if you want, and if I'm not using him, I'm sure Porcupine will take them for you."

"Oh good," Parker sighed, looking relieved.

"Hey, just out of curiosity, why did you name your _owl_ Porcupine?" Sirius asked.

"Because—" James paused. Why _had_ he named his owl Porcupine? It was a fairly strange name for an owl now that he thought about it.

"I'm not really sure," James finally replied, determined not to be embarrassed about it. Because, really, even though Porcupine was a strange name for an owl it wasn't that strange. After all, Uncle Ron's first owl had been called 'Pig'.

"Oh, look! Jack and Tom are leaving. Let's go!" James announced, abruptly standing up, "Hey! Hey Jack, Tom! You heading up to the common room?" James called.

Jack and Tom both turned around.

"Yeah," Tom answered, "You too?"

"Yep," Sirius replied casually, "Mind if we tag along?"

Tom laughed, "Course not."

"Great!" Parker beamed. Even Romulus gave them a small, grateful smile.

"So," Tom began as they left the hall, "I've been meaning to ask you guys all day—What did you find when you went exploring? Any really cool secret passageways?"

James's eyes widened. Now what? He thought frantically.

"Well," Parker began, sounding surprisingly confident for having _no answer_, James panicked.

"James," Romulus interrupted, "Is that your cousin heading towards us?"

James' head snapped around to see Victoire walking over to them with a smirk on her face.

"Yeah. Yeah, Vic's my cousin. I wonder what she wants," James said as calmly as he could, considering that he didn't think he'd ever been so happy to see her before in his life.

"James, m'boy!" Vic proclaimed loudly as she came even with them and flung her arm over James' shoulder, "What's this I hear about you waking up the entire boy's dormitory?" Vic kept walking, dragging James with her.

James tried valiantly not to flush and heroically repressed the urge to fling her arm off his shoulder and loudly proclaim that he didn't know her. However, James could still feel a blush starting to creep across his face and only resisted publicly disowning her because he knew that whatever she'd do after that would be even worse.

"I—I didn't wake up _all_ the boys," James began uncomfortably knowing that he had, in fact, woken up all of the Gryffindor boys.

"That's a lie!" Vic said in a sing-song voice, "Teddy said you even managed to wake him up, and he's used to Potter antics."

"Potter and _Weasley_ antics," corrected James stubbornly, "It's not always the Potters."

Vic pushed aside a tapestry and began to climb the staircase hidden there. Romulus, Parker, Sirius, Tom and Jack all trailed behind them.

"No, not always," Vic conceded, "But usually. Anyway, why don't you tell your dear, darling oldest cousin what was going on, hmm?" The smile Victoire gave him was positively feral and James knew from experience that she wasn't actually giving him a choice here.

"I, er," James stalled, frantically trying to think of a realistic lie. Vic's arm tightened around his shoulders almost painfully.

"Don't even _think_ of lying to me Jamie-boy. You'll regret it."

James had absolutely no doubt in his mind that he would. So, he told her the truth—about how they accidentally broke their desk, how cold the dormitory was, and the entire bug fiasco.

"So, _Vicky_," James added to get back at her for 'Jamie-boy', "That is why we woke up the entire boys' dormitory."

By then, they had reached the Fat Lady. Parker and Romulus were both a light pink and were determinedly studying their shoes. Sirius looked resigned and Tom and Jack were gaping at them.

Victoire had dropped her arm off his shoulders and was giving him one of her looks. It wasn't a particularly scary look, like when she got mad. However, it _was_ her 'I'm the Oldest Cousin' look, which meant that James would soon be either praising the ground she walked on or cussing her out for the rest of the month.

James wasn't sure which option scared him more.

"Okay," She said finally, "Show me this room of yours."

"What are you going to do?" James demanded as the portrait swung open and they all scrambled inside.

"Fix some of your problems for one," Victoire called over her shoulder, "For two… well, let's just say that a Ted Lupin who was forced to wake up early is not something I want to deal with every day."

And with that ambiguous comment, she led the way to the boys' dormitory.

Twenty minutes later, Victoire had fixed their desk and, in her words, "cast enough warming charms to last a lifetime, enough creature away charms that not even a chimera could break them, and a silencing charm so that if you ever decide to be loud and obnoxious again, no one else will have to hear you."

And, for the next few weeks, it seemed to work.

Their dormitory was comfortable, if small. They didn't get enormously lost again, classes were going okay and James, while not necessarily friends with his roommates (he spent most of his free time hanging out with Ethan and Ian), got along with them, mostly.

But then, one night, it rained.

**A/N: Yes, this story is still being continued and yes, I finally updated. Sorry it took so very long. Life is insane and is still insane, so I can't even say my next update will be any quicker. All I can say is that this will be updated and it will be finished. It will just probably take a while. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you all for the reviews (if you can even remember leaving them it's been so long) and please continue to tell me what you think. Feedback and criticism are always welcome and appreciated! Thanks for reading!**

**-TheDancingFamilySkeleton**


	9. Chapter 4: Of Rain and Quidditch

**Intertwined**

**Chapter 4:** **Of Rain and Quidditch**

"_No! Rule #1! Nothing is more important than Quidditch! Rule #2: If something is more important than Quidditch, refer back to Rule #1!"_

_-James Potter, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, to Alma Baker, Gryffindor Keeper; two weeks before the 1976 Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch Match_

"And—I don't believe it! Potter scores the winning goal and England wins the World Cup!"

James threw his arms in the air and the crowd went wild as he flew a victory lap around the stadium.

His parents were beaming and James flew over to the Top Box where the Minister of Magic was smiling proudly at him.

"And here is the Quidditch World Cup! Congratulations on leading England to victory, James! You've made Engl—"

_Drip._

James winced.

_Drip._

James jerked his head to the side and the Quidditch Stadium faded away. He opened his eyes.

He was in his dormitory at Hogwarts and it was pitch black outside. James groaned and rolled over. He was exhausted and that had been a really good dream.

_Drip_.

James flinched as something wet landed on his ear. James swiped at it to dry it off and, wondering where the water had come from, rolled onto his back so that he was facing the ceiling.

_Drip._

"Argh!" James yelped.

He bolted upright, blinking furiously and scrubbing at his eye. Water had dropped right into it. Just then, James heard a crash of thunder outside and groaned as he realized what must be happening.

Their dorm had a leak and it was right over his pillow.

"Great," James mumbled, as water spots began to dot his pillowcase. Sighing, he looked around the room. Romulus, Parker and Sirius were still sleeping.

Groaning, James grabbed his pillow and threw it toward his footboard. He reluctantly crawled over his covers and arranged himself so that his feet were where the drip had been and his head was far away from it.

Absently hoping that his blanket wouldn't get too wet, he snuggled back under his covers and shut his eyes.

Thunder crashed again.

_Drip._

James twitched as a drop of water landed on his cheek. His eyes flew open and he glared sullenly at a random space in the dark.

It figured, James thought, absolutely disgusted. It just figured that he'd get the bed that had leaks in the ceiling above both ends.

Sitting up and watching water drip on his pillow _again_, James wondered what he should do.

_Drip._

James felt like screaming as something wet and cold landed on top of his head.

The thunder crashed again and, in the bed next to him, James saw Romulus stir. Another raindrop fell on James's head.

"Oh, forget it," James mumbled, slipping out of bed.

He turned and watched the three leaks slowly make visible wet spots on his blanket and pillow.

"James?" a hoarse voice whispered.

James turned his head to see Romulus staring at him through the dark

"What's going on?" Romulus asked fuzzily.

"Stupid ceiling's leaking," James quietly grumbled.

"Oh." There was a pause and then, "Why don't you flip your pillow to the other end of your—"

"Already did. There's a leak there too," answered James grumpily, sending a tired glare at his bed.

"Real—Argh!" Romulus let out a yelp and sat up abruptly, "Something just dropped on my neck!" Romulus quickly explained, rubbing at his neck furiously.

"Great,' James muttered, "Well, maybe if you flip your pillow around you'll be okay. I'm going to sleep on the floor. I guess."

"Sorry about that," Romulus whispered sympathetically.

"Yeah," James sighed again. "Thanks."

With that said, James pulled his blanket off of his bed and grabbed his pillow. Unceremoniously dropping them both on the floor, James walked over to his trunk. He opened it and pulled out his cauldron and, after a bit of rooting around, two empty ink bottles.

Thinking many grumpy thoughts toward Victoire, who must not have thought to fix the leaks in the roof, and whatever sadistic idiot had decided to put them in this dormitory in the first place, James placed the cauldron under the leak at the head of his bead and the ink bottles under the leaks at the foot of his bed and in the middle of his bed.

An unsteady and vaguely irritating dripping sound now echoed throughout the dormitory.

Hoping that he'd just get use to the noise, James sat down on the floor, bunched up his pillow and laid down, pulling his covers up over him. Closing his eyes, James let out a small sigh and idly concluded that sleeping on a stone floor was even worse than sleeping on a wood floor.

James heard a squeak from Romulus's bed and opened his eyes to see Romulus sitting up in the middle of his bed.

Lightening flashed just enough for James to clearly see Romulus grimacing.  
James watched with interest as Romulus stood up and walked over to his trunk. He pulled out his cauldron and the jar they'd caught and killed the mystery bug with a few weeks ago.

Romulus placed his cauldron near the head of the bed and the jar on the right side of the foot of the bed. Then, Romulus grabbed his blanket and pillow and threw them on the floor.

"Another leak?" James asked quietly.

"Yes," Romulus whispered back.

James sighed and shut his eyes again.

A few minutes later, James was beginning to feel comfortably drowsy. He rolled over and then immediately rolled back. James stared in disbelief at the small puddle forming to his right.

"You're joking," He muttered in disbelief as he watched another drop fall from the roof to the floor.

"Psst! James!"

James tore his eyes away from the puddle to see Parker sitting up in his bed and looking at him.

"How comfortable is the floor?" Parker whispered.

"It's not," James replied blandly. "Why?"

"The roof's leaking and I keep getting wet! I put my blankets over my head even and it _still_ bled through," Parker explained over another thunder crash.

"Might as well hop on down then," James told Parker, before scooting closer to his trunk and digging through it.

Irritably wishing he could see, James dug through his clothes and other belongings until he found the Appleby Arrows coffee cup his mum had told him not to pack.

James put it down under the leak to his right.

"You're right. The floor's really uncomfortable," Parker commented.

"That's because we're literally trying to sleep on a rock," James grumbled in reply, feeling cranky.

He just wanted to go to bed and it seemed that the world did not want him to, which just wasn't fair. Quidditch tryouts were tomorrow and if James wanted to beat out any of the old members to make the team, he'd need all the help and good luck and sleep he could get.

With that thought in mind, James lay back down and determinedly shut his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep.

And James laid there for he didn't know how long, listening to the drip of water hitting water and the thunder roaring and the rain pounding down on the windows, drifting in and out of consciousness.

James felt another drop of water fall right on his nose.

He sat up and then, before he could move again, noted with surprise that both Romulus and Parker had already changed positions, moving closer to the middle of the room, and that Sirius's bed was now littered with a cauldron, ink bottles overflowing with water, and one of the chamber pots they'd been given but hadn't used yet.

Sirius himself was curled into a small ball in the middle of his bed.

Standing up so that he could empty out his own ink bottles and maybe replace one of them with a chamber pot, James' mouth dropped open.

The floor was practically covered with containers to catch the rain.

Three chamber pots, too many ink pots to count, jars, old potion ingredient containers, an odd assortment of cups, mugs and bowls that came from who knew where, and a top hat were all filled with various amounts of water. James wasn't even sure how to begin to try and navigate the dormitory much less find a dry place to sleep.

Slowly, and in something sort of like shock, James reached over to one of his inkpots (which was only three quarters of the way full—someone else must have emptied it earlier). He grabbed it and his other water catchers and cautiously walked over to the window, careful not to disturb one of the containers that had somehow been put near him while he slept.

James quickly opened the latch to the window and hurriedly dumped out his cauldron and ink bottles. He carefully made his way back to his trunk and began digging through it again.

Just as James found the tiny trophy he had gotten from his grandfather one year, Parker piped up.

"Hey James," he began, sleepily, "D'you reckon your cousin could help us out with this? Because I don't want to have to do this again."

"Yeah—I'll talk to her in the morning," James said.

The sooner the leaks were fixed the better.

But first—James put the small trophy down where his nose had been, scooted his pillow over just a bit and laid back down. He shut his eyes and slowly, so painfully slowly, drifted off to sleep.

_BANG!_

_CRASH!_

"What the—!"

_Clink, clink, clink, clink!_

"Argh!"

James woke up with a start.

Weak sunlight was filtering into the tower and James blinked rapidly as his eyes got adjusted.

"Potter!"

James whirled around to see Sirius sitting up in bed. Chamber pots, bowls, old potion containers and ink bottles were littered around his bed and water was seeping everywhere.

Parker was sitting upright, drenched and rubbing his head as if in pain, numerous ink bottles lying on the ground next to him.

"What?" James asked, his heart still beating wildly from the rude wake-up call.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" Sirius demanded, "Because if it is, you have an awful sense of humor! The ink bottles hit Parker in the head!"

James tried to stifle a laugh, but it was really hard. Sirius looked furious and Parker was, despite the bump on his head that had to forming as they spoke, grinning wryly.

"Sirius slept through it all," explained Romulus, who was carefully standing up and weaving his way through the obstacle course of rain catchers toward his bedside table.

"Slept through what?" Sirius snapped, "You're not in on this too, are you?"

James couldn't help it—he laughed.

"The thunderstorm. We had a huge one last night and, apparently, our dorm leaks. Quite a bit," James explained with a wide grin on his face.

"No surprises there," grumbled Parker, glaring at the ink bottles and then at the roof.

"So," Sirius looked confused, "This," Sirius gestured at the junk spread out all over the floor, "was all to catch the rain?"

"Yes," Romulus answered simply as he slipped on his glasses.

"You're joking," Sirius said flatly.

"No, we're not. Sorry," Parker sighed, standing up and staring down at his soaked sheets.

"I think I'm going to ask Victoire if she can—No!" James yelped, staring at the clock in horror.

It read 9:19.

James scrambled to his trunk, knocking over at least three containers and sending water flying everywhere.

"James, what are you doing?" Sirius demanded as James frantically dug through his trunk, haphazardly throwing on the first clothes he could find and tossing everything he didn't need out of his trunk.

In a corner of his mind, James knew that he had to be making a mess. His belongings were probably everywhere and he was most likely knocking over every single one of the water catchers in his vicinity, but he didn't care. He was _late_. He was nineteen minutes late to Quidditch tryouts and he hadn't even left his room yet.

"Ah-ha!" James shouted triumphantly, pulling his broom out of his trunk.

Leaping over the bigger bowls and the chamber pots, James reached the middle of the room. He dragged the desk away from the trapdoor, knocking over about ten ink bottles and potion ingredient jars in the process.

"Gotta go to Quidditch tryouts! See you later!" James hurriedly told his staring roommates as he flung the trapdoor open and threw the rope ladder down.

He scurried down it and ran out of the Gryffindor Tower.

Mentally congratulating himself on his idea of practicing getting down to the Quidditch Pitch from his dormitory every day for the last week, James flew down the hallways and staircases and out onto the grounds without getting lost once. Barely eight minutes later, James ran onto the Quidditch Pitch, his side aching and his breath coming out in short puffs.

No one noticed him. They were all two busy staring avidly at Jonah Whitaker, the 6th year Gryffindor Quidditch coach.

"Thank you all for coming and, once again, results will be posted later today as to who got the spots. See you all later!" Jonah waved cheerfully as he walked off the pitch.

James's mouth dropped open.

They couldn't be done yet! He'd just gotten there! He hadn't had a chance to tryout yet!

"Quick tryout," James heard a 7th year girl mutter.

Another one laughed derisively, "That's because this was just a formality. Whitaker is going to have the exact same team he had last year. I don't even know why I bothered to show up."

"James!" a voice suddenly shouted, "Where in the world _were_ you?"

James's head jerked up to see Victoire stomping toward him, scowling up a storm.

"I—well, I overslept because—" James quickly began.

"Oh never mind! It doesn't matter why!" Vic snapped, "I can't believe you weren't here! I held tryouts up for you for ten minutes! Do you know how _hard_ that was, with Jonah not even wanting to do them in the first place?" Vic's ears were bright red, a sure sign that she was furious, "And you're only a first year and I've been talking you up to _everyone_ since school started and then you didn't even show! Because you _overslept_? I can't believe you, James. You are a half an hour late! You just—ugh!" Victoire threw her hands up in the air and stormed off.

James felt numb.

He'd missed tryouts. Victoire had gone out of her way all week, helping him practice, showing him over and over again how to get to the pitch and, now, she'd even held up tryouts for him. And he'd still _missed_ them and now Vic was furious with him. All because he'd somehow got saddled with a defective dormitory.

James had a pit in his stomach that had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn't eaten breakfast and a vile taste in his mouth that wasn't because he'd skipped brushing his teeth.

James watched numbly as everyone slowly trickled off the field until he was the only one left. Clutching his broom, James blinked rapidly. He probably wouldn't have made the team anyway, James thought miserably. He was only a first year and no one from the team had graduated last year.

But, maybe—no, James cut himself off firmly. He'd missed tryouts and he wasn't going to make the team, and that was that.

Slowly, so very slowly, James turned around and began to trudge back toward the school. By the time he reached the main doors, James was breathing normally again, his heartbeat was back under control and he was determinedly trying to think of something—_anything_—other than Quidditch.

But how was he going to tell Ian and Ethan and his parents that he'd never even made it to tryouts so he didn't even know if he could have, by some miracle, made it or at least made the reserve team?

James dragged his feet toward the Great Hall, but he paused in the doorway, looking at his broomstick awkwardly.

He was a first year. He'd missed the tryouts and Victoire might kill him because of that. People would probably stare if he brought the broomstick in. James stared at the doors to the Great Hall for a little bit longer before reluctantly walking in. If he went back upstairs and put his broom away, breakfast would be gone by the time he got back and James didn't want to miss breakfast too.

Slowly, very, very slowly, James walked into the Great Hall, keeping his eyes firmly on his feet. He sat down at the edge of the Gryffindor table, shoved his broom under his seat and began to eat, keeping his eyes fixed on his plate.

James had just finished eating when a loud voice made him look up.

"Wow, Potter, thanks for helping us clean up the dormitory. We really appreciate it. Oh, wait, you didn't help. Actually, you were the one who made is so messy in the first place!"

James saw Sirius glaring at him as he slammed down into the seat next to James. Romulus and Parker sat down across from them, looking a little calmer.

"Sorry," James mumbled into his plate.

"Tryouts go that badly then?" Sirius asked in a softer voice after a few minutes of awkward silence.

"Well," James began, striving to sound as though he didn't care. He wasn't really sure how well he succeeded. "Depends on what you mean by that."

"What could I all mean?" Sirius asked, sounding bewildered.

James looked up and dredged up something sort of resembling a smile, "Well, if you're asking whether I flew badly, the answer would be, technically, no. I didn't fly badly. And if you were asking me if the tryouts were badly run, the answer would be—well, I don't actually know. I wasn't there. I missed them."

"You—you missed tryouts?" Romulus asked quietly.

"Yeah," James sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted, "And Vic's furious with me, so we can't ask her to help with our dorm. She'd be more likely to curse me than help me right now," James finished glumly.

"Oh," Sirius said, shifting awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, James," said Parker softly, "But," he added brightly, "You don't have to worry about our room leaking again."

"Why not?" James asked. Who did they get to help them? Maybe they asked Jeremy the prefect?

"Well, Rom had the brilliant idea of talking to Professor Longbottom," Parker explained, happily piling his plate with food, "And Professor Longbottom said he'd talk to the house elves—and what are those by the way?" Parker looked at James expectantly.

"Erm," James began awkwardly, unsure how to describe the strange creatures, "Well, they're like little people but, um, they've got these huge ears and eyes and, er, they really like cleaning and cooking and, er, well, they're the ones who keep Hogwarts clean and, and everything."

"Alright," Parker shrugged, before continuing with his story, "Well, they're going to mop up all the water because we didn't have enough towels to dry everything off and they're also going to plug up all the leaks. Professor Longbottom said it should be done by this afternoon."

James nearly sighed with relief. Nev—Professor Longbottom, James corrected himself—was really reliable and if he said something would get done, then it would.

"Great," James said honestly, "Great idea, Romulus. And, erm, is there anything else you guys want me to clean up? Because I did leave in a bit of a hurry this morning."

"Nah," Sirius shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast, "We got it all. Thanks for offering though."

James snorted. Sometimes, well, James thought with a flicker of amusement, most of the time, Sirius' rapid mood changes baffled him.

"Then, I guess I'm going to go put my broom away. I promised Ian and Ethan that I'd meet them at 10:30. So, I'll see you guys later."

"See you, James," Parker chirped.

"Bye," said Romulus through a loud yawn.

Sirius' mouth was stuffed full of food so he just waved as James walked away.

The rest of the day actually went fairly well, to James' surprise.

Ethan and Ian commiserated with him over missing tryouts and Ethan even told him about some of the stupid things he'd done at his own tryouts the week before. After barely any time at all, James had almost completely forgotten about the botched tryouts as they played Capture the Flag with some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in their year as well as Sirius and Parker. Later, when it had started to rain again, James, Ethan and Ian had gone into an empty classroom and James had won five out of the eight games of Exploding Snap that they'd played.

So, by the time eight o'clock rolled around, James was whistling happily to himself on his way back to the Gryffindor common room.

Curfew would be coming up in a half hour for the first years and James had learned to always allow himself some travel time to make up for all the times he accidentally wandered off in the wrong direction.

At 8:29, James made it back to the common room. At 8:45, James had gotten ready for bed in Dorm 2's bathroom. By 9:00, he'd climbed up the rope ladder, noticed that there were patches on the ceiling and read the note that Nev—Professor Longbottom—had left for them, apologizing about the leaks and saying that they were all fixed. At 9:13, he, Sirius, Parker and Romulus were all in bed trying to go to sleep.

At 9:22, James felt a drop of water land on his forehead.

He nearly cried.

**A/N: See Last Chapter :)**


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